


After The Purge

by strawberriesinmoominvalley



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gen, I swear it’s not all doom and gloom, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Mandalorians (Star Wars), Post Purge of Mandalore, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesinmoominvalley/pseuds/strawberriesinmoominvalley
Summary: We all know that Mandalore was destroyed, its people massacred. But what was it like to live through?Meet Winnie, a seventeen-year-old Mandalorian. They lost their mother in the chaos. All they want is their family and home back.But how will that work in a galaxy set out to get them?
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze & Original Character(s), Bo-Katan Kryze/Fenn Rau (background), Original Character & Original Character
Comments: 57
Kudos: 14





	1. Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to me writing self-indulgent fanfiction! 
> 
> this is a story i have had planned since AUGUST, and yet i only started writing it recently. so this does diverge from the mandalorian season 2, and any similarities in scenes and totally accidental!
> 
> the main character, winnie, uses she/they pronouns. i switch every time there’s a break, just to make it easier to read.
> 
> PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS! we have implied rape/noncon, and i don’t want to hurt anyone. we also have self harm. it is mentioned at various points in the chapter, but if you want to skip the act, skip from “ They snapped. In the blink of an eye...” to “ Winnie smirked, savouring the looks of shock on their faces”. if there’s anything else you need me to warn, don’t be afraid to tell me!
> 
> finally, i have to thank @the_obiwan_for_me - she’s been so helpful with this, and all her stories are amazing! tl;dr a very lovely person!
> 
> mando’a is in italics and is translated in the end notes

Winnie coughed and spluttered, dust pouring out of their mouth. They blinked their eyes open, trying to rub them with their hands. Which were pinned under a rock.

Fuck. This day was just getting better and better.

They swung their legs around, pushing at the rock, which they now realised was part of a broken column, and eased their arms loose. They scrubbed at their eyes, before peering at their surroundings. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

Winnie heaved a breath, shaking their hands around by their sides. It’s okay. Maybe  _ Buir _ was in a different area. They eased themselves to their feet, standing gingerly as their body groaned and protested. Easing their  _ beskads  _ into their scabbards, Winnie walked carefully towards the place, picking their way through the rubble.

Tears started to slide down their cheeks, dampening the inside of their helmet as they made their way over. Their planet, laid to waste by the Empire. They had regained Mandalore. They had fought, and won! But now? Now it was just a ghost, and Winnie was sure they were the only one on the planet alive. 

They needed to find their Mum, before it was too late.

* * *

  
  


The palace was deserted. Well, apart from the bodies that were scattered on the floor. Winnie didn’t stop to look, to check who they were. She didn’t want to know. She was close to the few Protectors Rau had managed to recruit. Her Mum was very close to Fenn, she thought, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the thought. 

“ _ Buir _ ?” she yelled, her voice echoing through the broken buildings.  _ Haar’chak _ , where was she? Her last memory was her Mum, shoving her to the ground as an explosion rattled the ground.  _ Buir _ wouldn’t be here, Winnie thought. She was with her. She has to keep looking, for a sign - any sign - that she’s alive.

Broken glass stained the floors, sparkling like crystals as the sunlight pierced the dust. Winnie would have thought it was pretty, were it not the worst day of her life. The crunching of her boots on the glass filled the space, that was silent - too silent. Winnie couldn’t ever remember being anywhere this quiet.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of laughing and footsteps. She paused. This couldn’t be any Mandalorians, surely, for why would they be laughing. But Winnie couldn’t let this opportunity pass. She hid behind a pillar, and yelled.

“ _ Tion’cuy _ ?”

The laughter stopped, and Winnie held her breath. Please be Mandalorian, please be Mandalorian, please be Mandalorian.

She peeked around the pillar, and stifled a gasp.  _ Osik _ . These weren’t Mandalorian. They weren’t Imperial either. Winnie has no idea who they were, and didn’t care to find out.

She retrieved her  _ beskads _ and started moving as quietly as possible to the exit. If she could just get out of here, maybe she could find somewhere to comm Mum. That would do. Her body pulsed with adrenaline, and she struggled to keep her hands still. She needed to be steady, and she needed to keep a clear head. She didn’t want to be seen, as much as the Mandalorian in her was wanting to beat them to a pulp. She knew when she was outnumbered.

Winnie could hear them getting closer, and she picked up her pace. She needed to move, she needed to get off Mandalore. As much as she didn’t want to abandon her planet, she couldn’t help it now. She needed reinforcements.

“Oh, a Mando’s still here. We are in luck today.”

Winnie’s heart stopped. This was a disaster day, and it was about to get worse. She pivoted on her feet, turning to meet them.

There were about six in total of a variety of species. She gulped. Sure, she’d fought this many people before, but she’d always had backup. She was totally alone, and she didn’t think she could navigate to a peaceful solution.

Another called out. “Oh, a Mando woman. She does look fun, doesn’t she guys? Don’t want to miss a piece of that!”

Oh, they’re pirates, Winnie thought. Trying to loot my planet. Great. This is a perfect day.

“I’m not a woman, you know,” she replied, steadying her  _ beskads _ .

They collapsed into laughter. Winnie rolled her eyes. 

“See, sorry to point this out Mando, but we can clearly see you have-”

“I’m not a woman. But I am your worst nightmare.” She lifted her  _ beskads _ , and charged towards them.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The world seemed to slow down, as Winnie lifted one of their  _ beskads _ and sliced open a Weequay’s throat. Fighting was an art, and they were masterful at it. It was like a ballet to them, and they were poised and elegant - an avenging angel full of fire.

They dodged a blasted bolt, dropping to the floor and sliding and stabbing another man. Adrenaline pounded through their veins, and they stood up and kicked another in the face. They had the element of surprise, but that was over. They had four people to fight, and all of them had a weapon.

They ran towards one and through a punch, sending his jaw rattling backwards. He raised his blaster, but she sliced it through with a  _ beskad _ before spinning away. A Twi’lek woman snarled a growl before swinging a hook towards their stomach. Winnie dodged and sliced open her stomach, sending her screaming to the floor.

But they weren’t careful enough. Just as the woman collapsed they felt a muted pain in their left leg. Oh, they thought. I’ve been shot.

The distraction gave the pirates enough time to regain control, and Winnie felt them grasp their arms. They kicked, shrieking through their helmet’s modulator. But there were too many, and they were hurt. 

Winnie was dragged over to a man - the leader, they assumed - and pushed to their knees. Another woman, the only one left alive, reached over and yanked off their helmet. Their fiery braids tumbled out, having come untied from their head.

“Ah, that’s why you’re so angry, redhead. Look at me,” the man reached down, and pulled their head up by their chin.

Winnie scowled at the smiling face. He had dark hair, and was clearly very strong. They would not win this fight, that’s for sure.

“What’s your name, Mando?” he said, brushing his hand across their cheek.

Winnie yanked their head out of his grasp. “Why would I tell you that,  _ besom _ ?”

One of the people holding them, a Weequay, shook them roughly. “He said look at you, bitch.”

“Come, come, let’s be courteous,” the man said, still smiling infuriatingly. “I’ll even tell you my name - it’s Calvin, although you can call me sir.”

“I won’t call you anything,  _ aruetti _ ,” they spat, glaring at him.

“Oh gorgeous, we’ll have you saying my name soon enough. But you’ve told me enough. Kryze-coloured armour? Disrespectful and headstrong? Red hair? You must be that bastard child - you must be Bo-Katan’s kid. Always heard she had one knocking around.”

They snapped. In the blink of an eye, Winnie had shook an arm free and unsheathed a vibroblade. They held it up in front of them.

“Look here, sir, “ they snarled disdainfully. “It doesn’t matter who I am, and I’d never tell the likes of you. But no one calls me beautiful without my explicit permission. So let’s see if I can change your mind on whether I’m ‘gorgeous’.” They dragged the vibroblade across their face, starting under their left eye and across to their right cheek. The Weequay grabbed at their hand, but it was too late. Blood spurted from the wound, dripping down their face.

Winnie smirked, savouring the looks of shock on their faces. Oh, that was what they had hoped for. They weren’t here for people’s pleasure. They did as they wished, and fought tooth and nail to keep that.

But it had been the wrong move, Winnie realised, as the grip of their arms became tighter and they were yanked to their feet. The man (they would never acknowledge the fact he had a name, he didn’t deserve one) seized their chin and pulled them close, so their noses were almost touching. They averted their eyes, hating the forced eye contact.

“Look here,  _ girl _ . You’ll do as I say, and you’ll be good about it. You don’t have a choice! Mandalore is gone. You have no power anymore, and once we sell your beskar, you’ll be worthless. A common warrior- oh you won’t be that either. Maybe we’ll sell you to the Imps, they want you. But I think I’d rather have you as my plaything.”

Winnie spat on his feet. “You’ll never do anything to me,  _ di’kut _ . And I’m not a girl.”

He smiled, a cold, dangerous smile, one that sung of the horrors that would come. “I don’t think you understand, sweetheart. You don’t have a choice. Take her to the ship!”

* * *

  
  


Winnie awoke in a cold, windowless room. Her legs felt still, and her head spun when she tried to sit up. Great. She’d been stunned.

She slowly eased herself up, and looked down. No. Her  _ beskar’gam _ , her beautiful, trustworthy  _ beskar’gam _ was gone. She had her jumpsuit, at least, but everything else was gone. Even the knife she’d shoved in her underwear. She shuddered at the thought.

Winnie reached up tentatively, feeling her face. The cut bisected her face, and  _ hurt _ . It had been cleaned, as there was no blood on her face, but no bacta had been put on it. It was meant to shock them, but she hadn’t thought it through. That was going to scar badly. Well, an optimistic part of her brain added, at least people wouldn’t call her pretty anymore. 

She got to her feet, her leg that had been shot complaining. She could see bacta had been put on that. At least they were gracious, she thought, rolling her eyes. Winnie inspected the room, checking for escapes. None. There was only one way in, and one way out. Great. What a good day this was. 

She sat down, resting her head against the wall. Winnie brushed the end of a plait over her hand, savouring the repetitive feeling. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She didn’t know when she’d get water, and she couldn’t waste it crying. 

What was she going to do? This was a disaster. Here she was, trapped in a pirate's ship, her armour and weapons gone. Her mum was going to  _ kill _ her.

Well, Winnie thought, I guess I could escape when they open the door. But I don’t know how many of them there would be, and I don’t know where my things are being kept.  _ Haar’chak _ . She was stuck, and she couldn’t see an immediate way out. Okay. So she’d have to wait. That was fine. It would be fine.

She pulled her legs up to her chest, and rested her head on her knees. Winnie’s plaits swung in front of her, and she undid the bindings and shook her hair out. The hair obscured the world, and the light glowed red through her hair. Winnie could feel the tension building in her chest, the inside of her arms fizzing. A lump built in her throat, and she fought to press it down. She wasn’t safe here; she couldn’t break. She needed to wait, wait until this is all over, before she would let herself fall.

She gently shook her head, feeling the way her hair would brush against her cheeks. Her arms rubbed against her legs, and she scrunched her eyes shut. Okay. I can control this much. And that’s all I can do, and I’m going to be fine. I’m Bro’wyn Kryze. I can do  _ anything _ .

Winnie could feel herself drifting, sleep creeping up behind her eyelids. She knew it was unwise to sleep - dangerous even. But she was so tired, and she was so sad. She wanted to curl up on her  _ Buir’s  _ lap, like she did as a child.But that couldn’t happen, maybe never again. She had to believe she was alive.

Well, if I can’t have a hug, I’ll give myself one, Winnie thought, as her eyes drifted closed.

* * *

  
  


The screeching of the door awoke Winnie, and they jolted upright, staring in the direction of the noise. The man was back, and they instinctively curled in on themself, shielding their body. 

Ah, you’re awake,” he said, his suave voice echoing around the empty room. “Now, I have some questions for you, sweetheart. Or, how do you say it,  _ cyar’ika _ ? Would that put you more at ease?”

Winnie flushed, anger coursing through their veins. “Don’t you dare use my language,  _ besom _ . You deserve to die more than to speak-”

“Oh, quite the fiery Mandalorian. You know, you should learn some manners, young lady. I am your host, after all.”

“For the last time, I am not a girl!”

He laughed, a cold, menacing laugh that echoed around the empty room. He stepped across the floor and crouched down in front of them.

“Now, now, let’s be realistic. You clearly are, but I’m not going to argue with you.” He grabbed their chin, forcing them to face him. Winnie averted their eyes, staring at the floor.

“Now then,” he said, running a hand through their hair. “What’s. Your. Name.”

“None of your business,” they spat, yanking their hair out of his hand.

He smiled. “Oh, So you don’t know who this is?” He pulled a datapad out of his pocket, and began to read. “Bro’wyn Kryze. Adopted child of Bo-Katan Kryze, leader of Mandalore. Wanted by-”

“Where did you get this?” Winnie whispered, their voice shaking.  _ No _ . Mum had been so careful. Very few people knew they existed, let alone have details-

“Oh, so you  _ are  _ Bro’wyn. I thought the picture looked like you.” He flashed the datapad to them, showing a picture from a couple of years ago. Winnie remembered their mum taking it, on the morning they turned fifteen.

“Give me the datapad.”

“Bro’wyn, Bro’wyn. Did your mother teach you any manners? No, I think I'm going to keep this. Now, I have a few more questions to ask you."

Winnie snarled. "Give. Me. The. Datapad."

He smiled at them, shaking his head. “So persistent. So, Bro’wyn, where is Bo-Katan? The bounty for you is high, but with your mother? Well, that would be spectacular.”

“I wouldn’t tell you!”

“Bro’wyn, I am losing my patience. Where. Is. Bo. Katan?”

“None of your business,  _ di’kut _ . Why would I tell you, you awful, disgusting excuse-“

In a flash he yanked on Winnie’s hair, snapping their head back so they faced him. 

"I will only say this one more time, and you'll be sorry if you refuse. Now. Where is your mother?"

"If you think you can scare me into answering, then-"

He scraped his hands across Winnie's face, reopening the cut they had scored in hours before. Winnie gasped, tears stinging their eyes.

"I don't know, ok? I don't know where she is!"

He smiled, wiping his blood-stained fingers on his trousers. "Finally, a good answer. You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd just answered initially."

As he talked, Winnie saw his guard go down. He thought they were immobilised, blinded by pain. But they could work through pain.

In an instant, Winnie lunged forward and snatched the datapad out of his hands. They ran towards the partially open door and threw it down the corridor. It skittered down before smashing everywhere, glass splintering like ice around it.

Winnie started sprinting down the corridor, forcing their injured leg to work properly. If they could just get out of here, maybe the could steal a ship, and find Mum-

But they hadn't counted on the noise the datapad would make. Heads popped out of doors, hands reaching towards them. Winnie ignored the feeling of hands grazing their skin, and raced towards the lift. Just 15 metres. 10. 9. 8.

A hand grabbed them, jerking Winnie backwards. They fell on the floor, the breath knocked out of their lungs.

They could hear voices, and feel themself being picked up. But they saw nothing, tears blinding their eyes. Winnie screamed and kicked, attacking their captors wildly. They had been so close. 

Blood streamed down their face, intermingling with the tears. They could feel their arms getting pinned, their legs held down. They couldn't fight; they were outmatched and tired.

Their screaming cut out, choked down by the sobs that wracked them. All Winnie wanted was their family and their home. This wasn't meant to happen

Winnie opened their eyes one final time, before they blocked the world out, before their worst nightmare came true. And out of the corner of their eye they saw something. In the room over, glinting in the light, were Winnie's  _ beskads _ .


	2. A good day for someone else to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie fights pirates and causes chaos. She suffers the consequences of the day before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> welcome back to the shenanigans of a crazy mandalorian
> 
> i swear this chapter is nicer than the last one. then again, that isn't a hard threshold to beat!
> 
> less content warnings in this one, but there are a couple:  
> \- there are slightly detailed descriptions of Winnie's injuries at the start. just skip from "Winnie turned their head..." to "What a sight they must make."  
> \- at the end, i describe blood and briefly a panic attack. skip from "Forcing themselves to their feet, Winnie staggered to the fresher" to the next line break
> 
> i think i've covered everything. this story does get happier, but we have to deal with a few things first

Everything in Winnie’s body hurt. They groaned softly, forcing their eyes open. The ceiling shone silver above them, and their heart stopped. Where am I? Why am I not in my bedroom?

Then the memories came flooding back. The ships flying overhead. Mum running to them, telling them to grab their  _ beskads _ . The ground shaking under their feet. Not stopping to think, just fighting and fighting desperately. Running to a friend, her blood staining their hands as they desperately tried to stop the bleeding. Waking up alone, pirates, being taken to their ship-

_ Osik _ . This was certainly a situation to get out of.

Winnie turned their head, stifling a gasp at the way their neck screamed. They reached up and touched their neck gently, flinching at the jolt of pain it sent through them. If Winnie wasn’t mistaken, there were bruises in a cruel sort of necklace around their neck. They could feel dried blood all over their face too. 

What a sight they must make.

Still, there wasn’t time for vanity. Winnie needed to get out of here, and get out of here fast. 

They raised themselves onto their elbows and reviewed the room. Their clothes were strewn about, but that wouldn’t take too long to grab. But they’d have to get out the door, and it could only be unlocked from the outside. That could cause some difficulties, but if they could catch them by surprise, they could stand a chance.

Winnie twisted their body to look behind them, ignoring the groans in their aching body. Oh. Now this could change things for the better. They didn’t recognise the man lying there, but he clearly hadn’t left since yesterday.

Meaning the door would still be unlocked for him.

As quickly as they could, Winnie stood up and pulled on their clothes. Their jumpsuit was torn, and zip didn’t work well anymore, but that could be fixed. At least the bruises that spotted their skin didn’t show through the holes.

They picked up their boots and headed towards the door. Winnie went through the escape plan in their head. The first priority was their armour, then escaping. Winnie knew it was silly, and that they should prioritise their safety before it, but they didn’t care. They’d already had their home and culture ripped away from them - if they could just hold onto the outward symbol of being  _ Mando’ade _ , the memories of forging it with their  _ Buir _ \- that would be enough.

A groan brought them to a sudden stop. They whipped their head around, their neck screaming in protest. Fuck. The man was awake, and staring straight at them.

Before he could think of yelling, Winnie was across the room, covering his mouth with their hand. They sat on his chest, leaving him gasping, and stamped their legs down hard on his arms, pinning him there. Shoving their boots into his mouth so he couldn’t yell, they gripped the side of his head and twisted, waiting for the telltale crack. They jumped up, grabbed their boots and ran back to the door. They paused for a second before pulling open the door, shuddering. As many times as they’d fought for their life, as many times as they’d killed without thinking, it still made their stomach twist. Especially like that. It was far too personal. But, a dark part of Winnie’s brain whispered, at least he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

They pressed the release button on the door, shoving their fingers under it to stop it screeching against the floor. Winnie pushed their bleeding fingers in their mouth before stepping out into the corridor. They tiptoed across the corridor, their socks muffling their feet against the floor.

Winnie stuck their head around the door, surveying the room. It was empty! This was going far too well, and they were surprised it hadn’t gone badly yet. They crept into the room, and turned to the door panel. Okay. So they could lock this door. That would buy them some time.

Winnie hit the close button and turned around, heading over to the table where their  _ beskar’gam  _ was placed. They placed their boots on the floor and reached for a greave, switching on the magnetic lock.

A screeching noise filled their ears as the door slid shut.

_ Oh no _ .

* * *

  
  


Winnie flipped her head, struggling to fit all her hair in one hair tie. Why she only decided to carry one spare with her armour was anyone’s guess, but now was not the time to contemplate her stupidity. She didn’t have time for this. She had to move, and fast.

Jamming her helmet on her head, Winnie slid her blasters into the holsters on her boots and sheathed her  _ beskads _ . She glanced around the room, seeing if there was anything of interest she could grab. A flash of silver caught her eye, and she stepped over to it. A commlink sat on a shelf, and she slipped it into her pocket. Then, with a final glance around, she opened the door.

The corridor was empty. There was no one in sight. This was not a good sign, Winnie thought. Everyone would have heard the door. At least everyone on this level. She cautiously stepped out into the corridor, sticking close to the walls. Each footstep echoed down the empty corridor, a stark contrast to the silence that seemed to fill the air. Maybe they’re all drunk, and it’s all fine. Maybe I can get out this time.

She made it to the lift without any trouble, and hit the button for the lowest floor. As the lift started to move downwards, Winnie leaned against the wall, tipping her head back and sighing. She was so tired. She wished this was all a bad dream, that she’d wake up and go to her classes and spar and see her Mum. The person who’d always been there, who’d always protected her, who’d taught her to navigate the world. She’d grown up in a resistance group, fighting desperately to survive, to free her planet. Her existence shielded from everyone who didn’t need to know.  _ Buir  _ was the only stable thing she’d had in her life. And now-

Now she was alone. 

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back furiously. She couldn’t cry, not now. She had to wait. She wasn’t safe, and Winnie knew that if she let her emotions come out, she’d break. She just had to push them down, keep her chin up, until she was safe.

If safe was even a thing anymore.

As the lift ground to a stop, Winnie took a deep breath, steadying her emotions. The door slid open, and she unsheathed her  _ beskads _ , stepping into the hangar.

* * *

  
  


A volley of bullets flew towards them as Winnie swung out of the lift, ducking behind a pile of crates. They peered out, turning on the heat sensors on their helmet. If they went their planned path, they would encounter fifteen people. Great. This was already not going well.

They needed a diversion, and a good one at that. 

Winnie glanced through their armour, wondering what they could use. Knives wouldn’t be the most useful, and they didn’t have any smoke bombs on them.  _ Haar’chak _ . They ducked their head out for a second, surveying the room. The hangar was full of crates, in towering piles. They spread out along the floor, curving around with the wall.

Right towards the ships.

If I can get nearer the ships, I stand more of a chance, Winnie thought, sheathing their beskads and placing their hands on the first crate. I can pick people off from above, give myself more of a fighting chance. It probably won’t work, but it’s a chance.

Pulling themself up onto the crate, Winnie stood, glancing out. No one had seen them yet. Now they needed to move fast. They pushed themself up onto the crates, scrambling for footholds. They reached the top, and surveyed the scene. They had the advantage right now, but as soon as they shot they would give it away. But if they didn’t do that, they’d never stand a chance at escaping. 

Fuck it.

Pulling their blasters out of the holsters on their boots, Winnie fired, hitting and felling a woman on the ground. Yells flew around the room, but Winnie was already moving, running and launching themself towards the next pile of crates. They smacked into them, knocking the wind out of their lungs. They paused for a microsecond before scrabbling up to the top of the pile, firing towards the pirates as they climbed. 

Once they got to the top of the tower, Winnie paused, picking off pirates. One got a shot to the leg, another to the head. They just needed to immobilise them, to get as many struggling as possible. They dropped to their stomach, a bolt glancing off the side of their shoulder. They may be in beskar, but that wouldn’t save them. They picked off another before jumping to their feet and launching themself to the next crate.

By this point, the pirates had worked out what they were doing. They were knocking over the crates, climbing up the ones ahead - cutting off Winnie's access points. Winnie shot at the Weequay on the next pile, feeling his bolt bounce off their pauldron. He fell, and Winnie jumped to the next one, reaching the top and returning fire to the pirates. Bolts bounced off their beskar as a few more fell.

Suddenly, Winnie felt the crates sway beneath them. They’d ran out of time, but they were near the ships now, and multiple pirates were felled. Well, this could be the end, Winnie thought - but I’m going to go out fighting, on my own terms.

The pile collapsed, and Winnie jumped.

* * *

  
  


She landed hard on the floor, rolling forward before crouching. Quickly holstering her blasters, Winnie unsheathed her  _ beskads _ , twirling them before running forward. She slashed and blocked, spraying blood everywhere as she fought ferociously. She was in her element, a Mandalorian who grew up fighting to live.

She felt a hot burn in her hip, but she kept on fighting, cutting her way through the crowd. Time slowed down, and she purely focused on the battle, parrying and slicing and blocking. The ships were steadily drawing nearer, and excitement started to flood her. I might just make it.

“Leaving so soon, Bro’wyn Kryze?”

Winnie froze, and spun around to face the man, the man who’d sparked this whole thing off, the man who’d taken away all her choices, the man who’d completed her nightmare of a day. The room went silent.

She mustered up her courage. “Yes, I am leaving.”

“Really? We’ve been nothing but hospitable to you.” He smirked at her, slowly walking towards Winnie. She forced herself not to step back. She tightened her grip on her blades, feeling the leather bite into her hands.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill you,  _ besom _ .”

He continued to step closer, and she raised her blades, muscles tightening to strike. “Bro’wyn, do calm down. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable agreement. You see, it’s quite simple. We need money. And the rumored kid of Bo-Katan Kryze? That’s worth a lot, sweetheart.”

“Call me sweetheart one more time,  _ hut’uun _ , and you’ll wish you never so much as looked at me!”

“Oh, but you’re not  _ that  _ good at fighting, are you Bro’wyn? You proved that last night.”

The room seemed to sway under Winnie’s feet. She ran towards him, ignoring how her lungs seemed to be weighed down by sand. Others ran to stop her, but he waved them off, ducking under Winnie’s blades and pulling out a blaster. He elbowed her hard in the arm, sending a  _ beskad  _ spinning onto the floor.

Winnie slashed violently, before ducking and pulling out a blaster. He shot at her, the bolts stopped by the beskar. She didn’t need any more blaster burns in her, that was for sure.

“Bro’wyn Kryze, a fearless Mandalorian who can’t even beat a common pirate in a fight. Oh, the shame of it!” He hit her stomach, and captured her in a headlock, pulling a knife from his belt and holding it to her neck. “Poor little girl, so lost without her mother. Her whole planet gone, everything taken from her-”

Winnie stamped hard on his foot, wiggling free from his grip. She kicked him, snapping his chin backwards, before grabbing his shirt and pressing her blade to his throat. “Here’s the thing,  _ di’kut _ . I focus on the fight, instead of shit-talking. And now, you lose. Sorry about that - I should appreciate your hospitality. However, I have places to go. See you round - oh wait, I  _ won’t _ .”

She sliced against his throat, watching the blood spray. 

“And here’s a reminder - I’m not a girl,” she added, before dropping him to the floor.

* * *

  
  


The room was frozen, a painted tableau of shock. Winnie knew this was their only chance. They picked up their  _ beskad  _ and broke for the nearest ship. Bolts started flying, and Winnie fired back randomly, not bothering to turn around. Their ankle burned. Well, I guess I’m starting a collection now.

They reached the nearest ship, and Winnie frantically palmed the controls. They shot in, sprinting to the cockpit. They turned on the startup sequence, locking the doors and pressing in the first hyperspace coordinates that came to mind. It didn’t matter where they ended up. They just needed to get out of here. 

The ship started to rise from the floor, and they activated the small set of turrets, shooting at the pirates. Explosions wracked the room, and Winnie pulled the ship through the exit, before hitting the hyperspace button as fast as possible. The ship made a worrying rattling noise, before jetting off.

Winnie hit their head against the control panel, breath coming in short gasps. They pulled off their helmet, unruly hair spilling everywhere. They needed to go clean themselves up, but the world was spinning and dancing, nightmares flashing before their eyes.

Forcing themselves to their feet, Winnie staggered to the fresher. They propped their hands up on the sink, staring at the face in it. A green-eyed, freckled face stared back - but that was all they recognised. A jagged cut bisected their face, and blood caked their cheeks and chin. A mask of horror graced Winnie’s face, pain etched into every inch of it.

They collapsed to the floor, tears choking them. They must be drowning, surely, because nothing had ever felt this bad before. Their skin seemed to burn, phantom touches brushing across it, and Winnie wondered if this was the end. They’d survived all that, and this is how they’d die.

I don’t think I’d mind, Winnie thought, as tears coated their face. Dying can’t be as bad as this.

Memories caked their eyes, and they shuddered. Their mind was spinning out of control, and they spun along with it. Their breath came in gasps, as Winnie struggled to get air into their heavy lungs. Spots danced in front of their eyes, and they welcomed the blackness, welcoming the reprieve from the horror of their brain.

* * *

  
  


The bed was soft beneath her, as she came to. An anxious face peered down on her, touching her forehead, before pressing buttons on her vambrace, calling for someone else.

  
“Thank the stars you’re awake. We were so worried about you,  _ Mand’alor _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winnie is... struggling. i did want to write the panic attack more detailed, but that wasn't the focus of the chapter. they're not having the best time, i must admit.
> 
> and a new perspective? i wonder who it could be ;)
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS:  
> buir - parent  
> beskad - a sword, made of beskar  
> mando'ade - mandalorian (lit. child of mandalore)  
> haar’chak - damn it  
> osik - shit  
> besom - ill-mannered lout/unhygienic person/someone with no manners  
> hut'uun - coward. the worst mandalorian insult (she's very angry)  
> beskar’gam- armour  
> di’kut- idiot  
> mand'alor - ruler of mandalore


	3. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie picked up the commlink that they had stolen, twizzling it between their fingers. They knew Buir’s comm code. They didn’t know if it would work, if she would pick it up, if she even had her commlink anymore.
> 
> But that didn’t matter. If they didn’t try, maybe they’d never find their Mum. And that wasn’t a risk they were willing to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> this chapter was a monster to write. if i've made mistakes in editing, please forgive me - i'm so tired!
> 
> no content warnings for this one! this is a happier chapter!
> 
> as usual, mando'a translations are at the end! i hope you enjoy :)

Winnie stepped out of the sonic shower, brushing through their long hair with their hands. They’d woken up on the fresher floor, after passing out the day before. They felt brighter, but they needed to do things. Firstly, patch up all the blaster wounds they had accumulated over the past few days, and clean up the cut along their face. Winnie regretted cutting their face now - they were desperate, they thought it might shock the pirates so they could escape. And now they had a permanent reminder of the worst day of their life. 

They stared at their face in the mirror, now puffy and swollen. Their left eye didn’t open properly, and their face was pink and sore. Fuck, I made a right mess of this.

They wandered around the ship, aimlessly opening drawers, searching for bacta. There had to be some  _ somewhere _ . Finally finding some in the small kitchen area (the kitchen. Who puts bacta in the kitchen?), they wandered back into the fresher, sitting on the floor as they patched up the blaster wounds. By the time they came to their face, there wasn’t much left - enough to stop an infection, but not to help heal it. Great. This was going to be one hell of a scar.

Winnie stood, ignoring how their body groaned, and picked up their flightsuit. It was torn, not enough to not be functional, but enough to be a worry. They needed to get a new one, as well as bacta and food. Unless they found money in this ship, they were going to have to steal. Not the greatest thing, but they needed supplies. Fundamentally, that mattered more.

Leaving their flightsuit in the fresher, they wandered to the cockpit, looking at how long was left until they arrived. They had no idea where they’d inputted coordinates to, which was a worry, but there wasn’t much they could do now. Oh. There was something they could do.

Winnie picked up the commlink that they had stolen, twizzling it between their fingers. They knew  _ Buir’s _ comm code. They didn’t know if it would work, if she would pick it up, if she even had her commlink anymore.

But that didn’t matter. If they didn’t try, maybe they’d never find their Mum. And that wasn’t a risk they were willing to take.

* * *

  
  
  


Half an hour later, Winnie swung around on the pilot’s chair, building up the nerve to send a message. She’d put her flightsuit on, ignoring the tears that were threatening to break it. There was nothing to repair it with on the ship, but it would have to do. There wasn’t anything on the ship she could wear. 

She didn’t know why this was scaring her so much. It was her Mum, for crying out loud. Winnie was fairly sure there was a hurricane swirling in her stomach, twisting and turning and spinning, destroying her attempt at calmness. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and entered the code.

Beeping filled the room. Winnie held her breath, willing for it to be picked up, willing to see the face she’d seen almost everyday of her life.

Nothing happened.

Winnie felt sick as the beeping continued to fill the room. Please pick up, please be okay, please, please, please.

The beeping petered out.

_ No _ .

She stood up, fighting the urge to throw it across the room. She could still see if she could leave a message.  _ Haar’chak _ . She had been so sure-

Tears burned at the edges of her eyes, and Winnie blinked them back furiously. She just needed to leave a message, then pick up supplies. She needed to be brave. She was  _ Mando’ad _ ; it was basically in her blood to keep going, to fight as hard as she could to survive. She endured.

But no one had prepared her for this.

She reinputed the code, and started talking.

“ _ Su’cuy, ca’senaar. Ibic ca’verd. Ni echoyi gar. K’oyacyi. Jorhaai ni, meh gar oyayc. Ni sushi. Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum. Ret’urcye mhi. _ ”

Winnie sunk to her knees on the floor, choking on tears. She missed her so, so much.

“I love you, Mum. Please be okay.”

* * *

  
  


“So, let me get this straight: you have a kid?”

Bo-Katan sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Yes, I have a kid. Their name is Winnie. Now, can we plan?”

“How old are they? Why have none of us known until now?”

This Koska kid really didn’t know when to be quiet, did she? Bo grimaced, before looking up. “She’s seventeen. Not many people knew they existed because they needed to be safe. I couldn’t exactly say I had a child knocking about, could I? That would put countless people in danger. Now, to plan.”

She nodded to Fenn Rau, who pressed a button on the holo-table, illuminating a map of the Mandalore system. “Our priority is regaining Mandalore. Concord Dawn is essentially abandoned, although there may be some  _ Mando’ade  _ left there. The Empire prioritised destroying  _ Manda’yaim _ . Kalevala and Krownest may be in danger of an attack, so we need to monitor chatter. Once we know what state we’re in, we can plan on how we regain Mandalore.”

Bo looked up, glancing at the other two over the table. They were the only other Mandalorians she knew were alive. It was almost petrifying, the feeling that they may be the only ones left.

The lone survivors of a nightmare, a dream she never thought would happen.

Koska nodded, heading out to the cockpit. “I’ll see if I can get into their communications.”

As she left the room, Fenn walked round the table to face her. She glanced up, looking at his familiar face.

“What about Winnie, Bo?”

She exhaled slowly, bracing her arms on the table. “I don’t know. I hope she’s alive - I left them on the floor, unconscious. I wasn’t going to leave her, but I had to keep her safe. Gideon was there, and was after the darksaber. I couldn’t let them get in the line of fire. I lost the fucking darksaber, and I lost Winnie.”

He carefully pulled her arms away, gently holding Bo’s hands. “It’s not your fault. We’ll get the darksaber back, and we’ll find Winnie. I promise you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she held onto him. “I need to get my comm code back. Maybe Winnie’s contacted me. We’ll keep an eye out for news of a Mandalorian causing trouble - that child seems to attract trouble, I swear.”

“She’s a  _ Kryze _ . You were like that, too, when you were younger.”

“Like you didn’t help me!”

Fenn laughed, and Bo smiled. It was nice having someone, someone who knew her. She’d missed him, in all the years spent apart. She pulled away, looking up at him. He sighed, running a thumb across her knuckles. “I miss back then. I wish the war hadn’t gone like that.”

“I miss them both. I thought, by taking the darksaber, I could make it up to her. I failed her. Again. And I can’t even look after my brother’s child, damn it.”

“They’d both be proud of you, Bo. You haven’t let them down.”

“I hope that’s true. I just- how can I lead, Fenn? How can I lead an impossible task?”

“Well, let’s make it simple. We get back Winnie, then we retake Mandalore.”

Bo smiled up at him. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

  
  


The beeping of the hyperspace alert brought Winnie out of their stupor. They were here - wherever here was. The hyperspace coordinates they’d inputted in a rush still eluded them of the location - the ship didn’t seem to say once you’d entered them in - and they were scared of where they’d ended up. They could be anywhere in the galaxy, for all they knew.

A snowy planet met their eyes. Krownest! Of course it was! They’d visited Ursa recently, and Mum had let them fly the  _ kom’rk _ . They knew the coordinates.

But this wasn’t the Krownest Winnie had left a month ago. 

Star Destroyers hung in the air in front of it, with Tie Fighters and Kom’rks swirling, bolts of energy flying everywhere.

So Mandalore wasn’t enough. They wanted to destroy the entirety of their people. They wanted to massacre them.

Winnie’s body seemed to sizzle with anger, and they grabbed the controls, ready to join in the firefight. But they stopped themself. Here they were, on a bad ship, with no distinction the were Mandalorian. They would be useless.

They couldn’t do anything, and they hated it.

It went against every cell in Winnie’s body, everything they’d ever been taught. Mandalorians stuck together. They were stronger together. They fought to protect their family. And these people were Winnie’s family. 

I don’t deserve to be a Mandalorian, Winnie thought as they inputted coordinates to a nearby planet. I’m sorry.

* * *

  
  


Taris was a strange planet, Winnie thought as she landed. There seemed to be such a split - you either seemed to live well, or poorly. It didn’t sit right, and her stomach squirmed uncomfortably. Maybe she was just hungry.

She pulled the hood of her cloak over her helmet, stepping out of the ship. The jaig eyes on Winnie’s helmet stood out against the shadowed blue of the helmet, but it would have to do. There was no way she was showing her face on a strange planet, especially now she knew she had a bounty on her head. It was always a rumour that Bo-Katan had a child, but there seemed to be more of a belief that she existed now. No one ever had worked out who she was that quickly before, like what happened with the pirates. She’d have to be more cautious.

“That’ll be 20 credits, miss- I mean sir- uh-”

“I’ll pay it later!” Winnie called over her shoulder, walking out of the docking bay and into the streets. The attendant yelled after her, but Winnie couldn’t make it out and didn’t stop to listen. She didn’t  _ have  _ any credits, and her priority was food and clothes, anyway.

She picked her way through the crowded city streets, scanning the crowd for any danger. Winnie didn’t expect there to be much trouble, but it didn’t pay to be caught unaware. She didn’t seem to know what to expect out of anything anymore. Her whole life had been turned on her head, and she was floundering.

She slowly made her way to a street market, with vendors sprawling everywhere in the open space. Winnie walked her way around the market, scanning the stalls for any left unattended. Getting caught stealing would give her too much publicity, and that was not what she wanted right now.

Someone had left a fruit stand empty, and Winnie eased over to it, under the pretense that she was looking at the next stall over. Carefully, she reached over and grabbed some of the fruit, slipping it into the pouches that she’d tied to her waist. She moved on, grabbing a bread roll here and a jogan there as she wandered through the marketplace. 

Finally, she found a stand that sold clothes. There seemed to only be one here, and it was attended. What was she to do? Winnie couldn't go into a shop - she didn’t know which ones would be vigilant about thieves. This was her best bet, and she could slip into the crowd quickly, lowering her chances of getting caught.

Winnie sighed to herself. Damn it. Why couldn’t she have managed to steal some money from the pirates before she fled?

She edged closer to the stand, making sure it looked like she was interested in the stall next door. The less that was suspected, the better.

The man running the stand was calling out, proclaiming how amazing his wares were. The loudness of the whole place was getting to her, and Winnie cautiously lowered the volume of noise seeping into the helmet, careful not to make it too quiet so she was still aware of what was going on.

The man turned, talking to a woman in a scarf, and Winnie took her chance. She reached out her hand and grabbed a flightsuit, tucking it back under her cloak. She walked away, surreptitiously shoving it into a bag. Keep calm, act natural, no one will notice.

Suddenly, Winnie smacked into someone, tumbling backwards. Food fell out of her pockets, the flightsuit lay crumpled on the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Can I help you pick them up?”

The woman she’d knocked into held out a hand cautiously, eyes flicking from her helmeted head to the  _ beskads  _ hanging loosely from her belt.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

The lady helped pass Winnie her food, which she posted back into her bags. Thank goodness. The woman thought she was an ordinary shopper. She’d got away with it.

Just as Winnie had picked up the flightsuit, and was thanking the woman for her help, a voice called out through the market.

“Hey, Mandalorian! I never saw you pay for that flightsuit!”

_ Osik _ .

Winnie took off at a run, weaving her way through the floods of people, shoving her way through and yelling apologies over her shoulder. She tore off the cloak, as she ran, throwing it behind her. She ran along streets, frantically trying to outrun the pounding footsteps that followed her.

She swerved into an alley, ducking behind some overflowing wheelie bins. Winnie frantically pressed the mute button on her helmet, masking her panting breaths that were far too loud in this quiet alley.

The footsteps pounded past the alley, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Winnie waited for a couple of long minutes, before stepping out the alley and headed back towards the docking bay.

She cautiously stepped back inside the bay, scanning the perimeter. It was safe, as far as she could see.

“Hey, uh... Mando. You still need to pay the docking fee.”

Winnie brushed past the attendant, pressing buttons on her vambrace. The ship’s door slid open. “No, I don’t.”

The attendant looked harried, and Winnie almost laughed at them. “Yes, you do.”

Winnie threw a pear at them, which they caught, looking distressed. “Here you go. Have some fruit!”

“I hardly think this will do-”

“I don’t have any money. Have this, if you want some payment.”

“You don’t have any money? Then how-”

“Bye! Your planet’s lovely, by the way!”

Winnie ran into the ship, cackling to herself. She initiated the start-up sequence, pulling away from the docking bay. Getting out of the system fast would probably be a good idea, she thought to herself, as she inputted hyperspace coordinates. She’d already caused enough chaos on Taris.

* * *

  
  


Winnie stared at themself in the mirror, tracing along the edges of the cut that bisected their face gently. They’d had to roll the arms of their flightsuit up, but that was fine - their armour still fitted well.

They’d come up with a plan whilst they ate, finally banishing the lightheadedness that had bothered them for the past day. Winnie was going to see if they could hack into chatter, find out any information on any Mandalorians. Hacking wasn’t their best skill, but they’d have to try. Maybe they would find a potential ally - or better yet, their Mum.

They’d stop off at planets, head into bars, see if they could find out information. If they could get hold of money, that would help them too. They needed someone to help them, at least.

Winnie pressed their hands against the glass, watching the person who stared back at them. A smile crept onto their face, edging up their cheeks.

They might just survive this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? happy!
> 
> i absolutely have messed up koska reeve's characterisation. but hear me out! i read her as early 30s in the mandalorian, and this is set in about 1bby. so, she's in her early 20s, and is a bit star-struck by meeting bo
> 
> look. i couldn't kill fenn rau off. i love his stupid face too much
> 
> i'm so excited to show you guys the next chapter!
> 
> MANDO'A  
> mando'ad(e) - mandalorian(s) (literally child of mandalore  
> manda'yaim - mandalore (yaim means home)  
> “Su’cuy, ca’senaar. Ibic ca’verd. Ni echoyi gar. K’oyacyi. Jorhaai ni, meh gar oyayc. Ni sushi. Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum. Ret’urcye mhi.” - hi, night owl. this is night warrior. i’m searching for you. stay alive. talk to me, if you’re alive. i listen. i love you. goodbye. 
> 
> here's some fun facts! i gave bo and winnie codenames, so they could talk - even if you did understand mando'a, it would be harder to work out who was talking. bo's name is 'night owl', a reference to her leading the night owls. winnie's was harder - i couldn't do 'night child', because that would be too obvious. so i went for 'night warrior', as night still signifies their connection, but disguises their relationship


	4. Truces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bo-Katan gets some good news. Winnie makes an unlikely ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!
> 
> there was meant to be a chapter in-between this one and the last one. however, i couldn't make it work. so i apologise for the time skip
> 
> i LOVE this chapter. it was fun to write - if you couldn't tell by how fast i wrote it! i highly doubt this will ever happen again
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

Bo fiddled with her commlink, setting the final changes in place. It had taken far too long to get a commlink whilst on the run, let alone set it up with her old comm code. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had one now, and she could see if Winnie (or Ursa, for that matter) had contacted her.

She’d found out about the attack on Krownest. But it was too late. The battle was already over. They’d raced over as soon as they’d heard the news, but all that was left was remnants of ships, bodies scattered throughout the sky. She’d ran into the Wren’s stronghold, desperately searching through the remains. There was nothing. Either they’d all survived - all she’d have to face the fact her best friend was dead.

Bo’s commlink finally opened, and she scanned through the messages left. She immediately saw a message from Ursa’s code, and she clicked play.

“I’m fine, Bo, before you ask. No thanks to those fucking Imps. Contact me when you can, if you’re alive. You better be - I love you too much to let you die, you crazy bitch.”

Bo heaved a sigh of relief at her friend’s antics. No one could kill that woman, she swore. 

She flicked through the messages, seeing names she recognised. But she scrolled past, ignoring them. She wanted a certain person, a confirmation that they were safe. But Bo couldn’t see their name anywhere.

She sighed, ignoring the tears that were starting to burn at the edges of her eyes. This couldn’t happen, they couldn't be dead - Bo didn’t know what to do if they were.

Just as she was about to shut off the commlink, she spied a message from an unknown number. No one knew her commlink code - it was a precaution, leading a resistance group, and now running a planet (or losing a planet, her brain added). Could it be…

She clicked on the message, letting it play in the empty room.

“ _ Su’cuy, ca’senaar. Ibic ca’verd. Ni echoyi gar. K’oyacyi. Jorhaai ni, meh gar oyayc. Ni sushi. Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum. Ret’urcye mhi. _ ”

Winnie.

Winnie was alive. She hadn’t failed. She hadn’t lost them.

Bo collapsed backwards into a chair, running her hands through her hair. Thank the stars they were okay. She sighed, before turning the commlink back on. Now she needed to contact them - and find them.

Maybe the galaxy hadn’t gone completely to  _ haran _ .

* * *

  
  


Winnie was frustrated. They’d been to bars and various planets for over a month, yet they hadn’t found a trace of any Mandalorians, let alone their Mum. Now they sat at the bar of some desolate pub on some dusty planet, praying that there would be something.

They fiddled with their glass, swirling the amber liquid around in it as they listened. They hadn't bothered to take their helmet off yet - Winnie didn’t want people to see their face if they didn’t have to, and the drink they’d bought smelled disgusting. That’s what you get with next-to-no money, they thought to themself.

Voices filtered in through their helmet, and they adjusted the volume. It was quiet - it was the middle of the afternoon - and Winnie didn’t expect anything yet. Maybe they’d have information when they staggered out early tomorrow morning, tipsy from sour drinks and overloaded from the noise.

Winnie glared at the glass. Maybe I’ll just get drunk now. I’m fed up with this.

A voice caught their ears, and they turned, staring at the speaker.

“I don’t know. Mandalore doesn’t seem recoverable. Most Mandalorians are dead.”

The boy who was speaking, a Mirialan with green skin and facial tattoos on his tops of his cheeks and temples, took a swig of his drink. He was talking to a Rodian. Winnie couldn’t help themself, jumping off their stool and walking over to the speaker.

“Mandalore  _ is  _ recoverable. Sure, many  _ Mando’ade  _ died, but we survive. We endure.”

The boy looked them up and down, taking in Winnie’s beskar and weapons. “That is true. But the Empire is systematically wiping Mandalorians out. Don’t you think it’s better to be safe and alive?”

They bristled, taking a step towards him. “I would rather keep my heritage, and die fighting. Mandalorian creed would live on - fundamentally, that’s what matters.”

“So you don’t care if everyone dies?”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean, Mando?” he said, slipping off his stool. “You’d die fighting for what you believe in, but don’t want people to die?”

“What do you know, Mirialan?”

“More than you’d expect.”

Winnie raised their eyebrows under their helmet, taking them in. The Rodian slid off their seat, edging away from the argument. “I highly doubt that. What do you know of Mandalore, if you’re oh-so clever?”

“Enough to realise that right now, Mandalore is not an achievable goal. It probably won’t be for years.”

“So you’re telling a Mandalorian to abandon their planet? When we’ve already lost so much?”

“No. Give me a chance to explain-”

But Winnie was done listening. They flew at him, throwing a punch towards his face. He ducked out of the way, striking at their crotch with his knee. Winnie dodged out of the way, shoving him in the side. He stumbled, and they punched him, landing a blow in his stomach as he twisted out of the way. He gasped, and they threw another punch - which he moved away from, spinning to the side.

He grabbed at their hands, trying to pin them down. He managed to get a hold on an arm, twisting it into an arm lock.

“Listen to me, Mando! I’m not your enemy!”

They ignored him, wrenching their arm from his grasp. Winnie jumped at him and they both tumbled to the floor, Winnie sitting on top of his stomach. He hit out at them, catching glancing blows to their sides.

“What do you have to say for yourself,  _ di’kut _ ?

The Mirialan breathed hard, before opening his mouth. “ _ Udesii! Ni vod. Ni Mando’ad. Haluur, chakaar! _ ” 

“What?!” Winnie gasped.

He sighed, pulling out a mythosaur skull necklace from underneath his robes. He tapped it against one of their vambraces. It rang out like beskar.

“You’re- you’re a  _ Mandalorian _ ?”

“Yes, but you didn’t give me a chance to explain! I was trying to tell you!”

“How was I to tell?” Winnie argued back. “You were talking  _ osik  _ about Mandalore, and you don’t have armour.”

“I do have armour on my ship. I, unlike you, realise we’re being hunted down, and decided wearing  _ beskar’gam  _ in the open wasn’t a good idea.”

Winnie sighed, standing up off of him and holding out a gloved hand. He grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet. “I’ll buy you a drink. Then you can explain to me what in  _ haran  _ you’re doing.”

He flashed them a smirk. “Deal. Only if you’ll answer my questions in return.”

They nodded their head curtly. “Fine.”

Winnie approached the bar, the boy following behind them. They turned to the bartender. “I’ll have-”

“Oh, hell no.” The woman scowled at the two of them. “You two are leaving, or I’ll call the authorities on you. Ain’t having fights here.”

Winnie grumbled, turning from the counter to the Mirialan. “Know any good places?”

* * *

  
  


Winnie slid into the seat opposite in the booth the boy had sat down in, setting his drink in front of him. He flashed her a smile, taking a swig from his glass. She pulled off her helmet, setting it down on the table beside her. Her plaits tumbled down from where she had tied them around her head.  _ Haar’chak _ , she really was going to have to buy better pins.

The boy stared at her face, eyes tracing the scar that split her face in two. It had healed now, mostly, but was an angry red and still hurt slightly to touch. Winnie had accepted it was going to be a permanent part of her face by now, but she wished he wouldn’t stare at it so much.

She took a sip of her glass, wrinkling her nose at the taste of cheap alcohol. “So. Who are you, then?”

He smiled at her, holding out his arm. “I’m Riven Ara’syna, House Kast. And you’re clearly a Kryze.” He gestured with his hand to the sigil on her helmet, at the night owl sigil on her pauldron. 

She nodded, reaching out her hand to grasp his wrist. “My name’s Winnie.”

Riven’s eyes flicked to her hair, before back to her face. Winnie wished he would stop looking at her. She didn’t look that odd, surely.

“You look very similar to Bo-Katan. And you’re a Kryze. Are you related to her?”

Winnie started, staring at him. “Uhh…. no. I’m no one important.”

Riven snorted, leaning forward on his hands. “You’re a Kryze. You’re part of one of the most influential families on Mandalore.”

Winnie shook her head. “Oh, I’m a distant Kryze. I did grow up in the resistance group, though. I have met Lady Bo-Katan”. Rather a lot, she added in her head. “But what about you? I haven’t heard of Ara’syna before. And what are you doing here?”

He leaned back in his seat, sipping his drink. “You certainly ask a lot of questions. Well, Ara’syna is pretty small.” Riven glanced down, staring at the table. “It was just my siblings and my parents, and my Ba’buir before he died.”

“Was?”

He sighed, tracing circles with his finger on the table. “I’m the only one who survived the attack on Mandalore.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiled at her, tears filling the edge of his eyes. “It was the worst day of my life. I won’t let any other  _ Mando’ade  _ die just to fail to get the planet back. It’s not worth it.”

“We  _ can  _ get the planet back. I believe that.”

“You really are naive, then. How old are you?”

“I am absolutely not naive,  _ di’kut _ . I’ve probably experienced far more than you have. Besides, I’m going to be eighteen soon.”

He laughed. “Perhaps you have. But you’re certainly naive giving your age away like that. Luckily, I’m genuinely curious on why you’re at this backwater dump. I’m eighteen.”

Winnie raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Oh, so you’re not that much older than me. Figures. Firstly, what are you doing here, Ara’syna?”

Riven smirked. He seemed to smile a lot, Winnie noticed. “Oh, surnames now, is it Kryze? Actually, I’m searching for other Mandalorians.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve found some?”

“I have. There was beskar being sold from this planet - suspicious, right? Anyway, some crime syndicate’s been taking Mandalorians, stripping and selling their armour, and selling them as slaves.”

“Fucking  _ shabuirs _ !”

“I know. I’m going to break them out.”

Winnie considered this for a second, before making up her mind. “I’ll help you.”

“What?!”

She looked at him, taking him in. “I think we have similar goals. Anyway, there’s no way you can take them down on your own.”

He knocked the rest of his drink back, setting the glass on the table with a clunk. “What’re you implying about me, Kryze?”

“You don’t look that strong.”

He clutched his chest in mock-hurt. “Betrayal! So what are you doing here, Miss Kryze?”

“Not a girl. I’m looking for information.”

“What information?”

“I’m looking for my Mum. We got separated. I don’t know if she’s alive, but I’m looking for her.” She paused. “And Bo-Katan. She can fix this situation - well, she has the leading capabilities to. If we team up, maybe I can find them - or at the very least, I can get more information.”

He sighed. “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I? I didn’t get to save my family, but maybe I can help you.”

Winnie smiled gently at him. “You’ll find a new family. It won’t be the same, but you will.”

“Well, aren’t you nice? So, we work together?”

Winnie nodded, then reached out her arm. “ _ Haat, ijaa, haa’it _ .”

Riven grasped her arm. “ _ Haat, ijaa, haa’it _ .”

* * *

  
  


Riven stared at the Mandalorian he’d managed to pick up as they headed back to his ship. He needed to put on his _beskar’gam_ , and Winnie had tagged along. They’d insisted it was because they didn’t have anything else to do, but he was fairly sure they just didn’t trust him. He didn’t know if he could blame them.

“So, how does being Mandalorian work with being Mirialan?” They gestured at his robes, and the tattoos on his face and hands.

“That’s a pretty personal question to ask, considering we’ve only just met.”

Winnie looked down, rubbing the backs of their fingers against each other. “I’m sorry. I should have thought-”

“Hey, it’s fine! I just didn’t expect that straight off the bat! No need to get upset over it.”

They continued to rub their fingers together, but Riven picked up a small smile on their face - the first real smile from them he’d seen. He liked it.

“Well, I suppose it isn’t too different from just being a regular Mandalorian. But my parents really wanted to make sure we still honoured our Mirialan heritage - after all, my mother only became Mandalorian after meeting my Buir. So, I wear the robes and the armour. I follow the _Resol’nare_ , but also some Mirialan beliefs. I got the tattoos for my _Resol’nare_ , in fact.”

Winnie’s eyes flicked towards him, glancing at his face before back down at the floor. “That’s really- is that your ship?”

He chuckled. “Yes. it was my family’s Kom’rk, before… yeah.”

“I am so jealous. I miss flying in a Kom’rk.”

“They are lovely ships, aren’t they? Now, let me go grab my armour, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Walking into the ship, Riven glanced back at Winnie. They’d sat down on the floor, messing around with the  _ beskads  _ they carried. He shook his head slightly, before heading into the ship.

* * *

  
  


Winnie glanced up as Riven stepped down the ramp. He didn’t wear that much beskar, and they fitted over his dark robes. They stood up, dusting off their flightsuit.

“Well, you certainly look the part of a Mandalorian, albeit less armour than usual.”

He raised his eyebrows, before unclipping his helmet from his belt. “If we turn on short-range comms in our helmets, that will make it easier to talk without being overheard.”

Winnie grabbed their helmet from their belt, and fiddled with the controls on their vambraces. “Done.”

They donned their helmet, watching as Riven pressed buttons on the side of his helmet (why didn't he just have vambraces under his robes?), before jamming his helmet on his head. He turned to them, throwing a casual salute, before talking through the two-way comm.

“So, Winnie Kryze, ready to go rescue some Mandalorians?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you believe i thought of this in august?! i had this planned a long time before the mandalorian season 2 came out!
> 
> i'm sorry this chapter was super chatty. the next chapter is going to be action-packed, let me assure you!
> 
> i love you all!
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS  
> “Su’cuy, ca’senaar. Ibic ca’verd. Ni echoyi gar. K’oyacyi. Jorhaai ni, meh gar oyayc. Ni sushi. Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum. Ret’urcye mhi.” - hi, night owl. this is night warrior. i’m searching for you. stay alive. talk to me, if you’re alive. i listen. i love you. goodbye.  
> haran - hell  
> mando'ad(e) - mandalorian(s) (literally child of mandalore)  
> Udesii! Ni vod. Ni Mando’ad. Haluur, chakaar! - calm down! i'm a friend! i'm mandalorian! breathe, bastard (it's a general term of abuse - thief/petty criminal, but it's being used like bastard here)  
> shabuirs - it's classed as 'jerk, but much stronger'. throw in whatever insult you like. i like 'assholes', in this case  
> Haat, ijaa, haa’it - truth, honour, vision - you say it to seal a pact  
> resol'nare - the six tenants of mandalorian life


	5. Teamwork and tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie and Riven attack the slavers, looking for information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!
> 
> this chapter was a bit mean to me. thankfully, it's done now!
> 
> i hope you're prepared for some shenanigans!

Winnie and Riven stood behind a wall, peering into the warehouse. The space was lined with boxes, trying to bar the view. But Winnie could see the shapes of people through their heat sensors in her helmet, and they were fairly sure Riven could too.

“We need to get closer if we’re going to plan our attack. What’re we doing, Ara’syna?”

Riven hummed. “I think we could run in quietly and climb up the crates. We don’t have jetpacks, and I don’t feel like scaling a building today. Could you climb up the crates?”

Winnie crossed their arms, smirking under their helmet. “Riven, scaling crates is my best skill.”

He laughed at that, the sound ringing through the two-way comms. “Well, race you then, Kryze!”

Winnie stuck their head around the wall again, checking to see if it was clear, and ran in, heading for the closest stack of crates. They felt for the grooves, and began hauling themself up as quietly as they could, jamming their feet in the gaps. When they got to the top, they flattened themself on their stomach, flipping down their rangefinder and scanning the room. A few seconds later, Riven flopped down beside her.

“Beat you!”

“You certainly did!” he said between pants. “Wow. This is bigger than I expected.”

The room was divided up by small walls of crates, with a high one near the back. Scattered in bunches by the low walls, however, were people. They saw a lot of humans and twi’leks, and a scattering of rodians and other species. They were locked up in bunches, binders attached to their wrists and then tied to others.

“ _ Manda’ner _ , that’s almost 30 people. How in  _ haran  _ are we going to do this?”

Winnie rolled onto their side, facing Riven. “Well, I want to look over there. Perhaps there’s something useful. The problem is, some people are probably unconscious. If we can’t get these people on our sides, we’re never going to get everyone out.”

“Okay. So we look over there and then formulate a plan.”

As quietly as they could, Winnie stood up as much as they could, hunching their back over so they didn’t hit the ceiling. They crept along behind Riven, careful not to let their heavy boots clunk too much on the top of the crates.

He raised a hand, and Winnie froze. Riven crouched, and they followed suit.

“There aren’t many people doing admin, huh?”

They followed his gaze, and stared down into the sectioned off room. There were about eight people in the room, with another three checking out the prisoners.

Winnie sighed. “That’s a lot more than we can realistically take out. We could snipe, although I don’t know how good of a shot you are, and at most take out three before they spot us. This is going to be hard.”

Riven stayed silent for a few moments, scanning the room. “Well, one of us could snipe, whilst the other free people.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, before turning to face them. “How good of a shot are you?”

“A good one. But  _ beskads  _ are my strongest point.”

He paused, considering this, and then pointed to one of the boxed out rooms. “Well, if you’re better with  _ beskads _ , then you’ll be on freeing. Okay. So, I’m going to snipe from up here, see how many I can take out. While I’m distracting them, and hopefully not dying, you start unlocking people. Tell them to grab the unconscious people and make a run for it.”

“What happens when they work out what we’re doing.”

They could almost imagine him smirking under his helmet. “Well, we’re  _ Mando’ade _ . Nothing beats a straight fight.”

“Best thing you’ve said all day.” Winnie muttered under their breath.

Riven laughed. “You ready?”

They nodded curtly. “ _ Oya _ !”

“ _ Oya _ !”

Winnie ran along the crates, before dropping down into the first room they saw was empty. There were about seven people here, and the ones who were conscious backed away at the sight of Winnie in their  _ beskar’gam _ .

“It’s okay! I’m going to get you out of here!”

They approached the first person slowly, raising their hands. “I’m going to unlock you. Then you’re going to help free the others and run. You need to get out of here.”

Carefully unsheathing a beskad, they broke the tie holding everyone together. They unlocked the first person, scrambling to get the others unlocked. They people stood there, frozen.

“Move. Now!”

The slaves scrambled to the door, and Winnie grabbed an unconscious twi’lek, following after them. They tapped a human on the shoulder, before passing the twi’lek to the woman.

“Take her. I need to get the others. You need to run, you hear me? Run. Never come back.”

The woman nodded, scrambling out of the door. Winnie sighed, before moving to the next room.

“Who are you?”

Winnie spun around, coming face to face with a man. Uh-oh.

“Would you believe I’m a new member of this slaving organisation?”

“What the-”

They grabbed him, slicing the beskad across his neck, before dropping him to the floor. They activated the two-way comms. “Hope you’re paying attention. Think I’m going to need a bit of help here.”

“I’ve got visuals on you. You’re fine right now.”

“Well, you could’ve warned me about him!”

“Just hurry up, Winnie.”

They rolled their eyes, before moving forward. “Hey, I’m gonna get you out of-”

“Behind you!”

Winnie swung around, ducking out of the way as a fist flew towards their face. They kicked out, before swinging forward and stabbing them. They could hear blaster bolts flying from where Riven was situated. This had just got real.

They tore through the bindings. “Grab people who can’t walk for themselves. Run. Get as far away from here as you can.”

Winnie ran to the next room. They had three more to do, including this one. This was not going well.

* * *

  
  


Winnie sliced through the throats of the two guards in this room, unlocking the bindings as fast as she could. “You need to move! Come on, up and out!”

She spun as she heard a thump beside her. Riven stood up, dusting off his beskar. “I got three before I had to jump. So we have five left.”

She nodded. “You take that room, I’ll take the other. Then we take the back room.”

Riven nodded, and they split, running to their respective rooms. Winnie pulled out a blaster, shooting the lone guard in the room. She ran to the centre, pulling the bindings off frantically.

“Move! Get out of here and run! I’m not telling you twice. This is your only chance. Move!”

As soon as the people left, Winnie ran to the entrance of the office-like room. Thirty seconds later, Riven ran up, flattening onto the wall next to her.

“I took out a guard. Did you?”

He panted. “No. It was empty. So we have four people, in a tactically advantageous position, and we have to get in there. Great.”

“You’re good at shooting. I’ll go on the other side. We’ll fight our way in.”

“Winnie, we can just ask the people we freed if they have information. Let’s go. This is suicide.”

“Too bad.”

Winnie ran across to the other side, pulled out her blaster and started shooting into the room. Riven sighed in frustration, before joining in.

“This is stupid.”

“Yet you’re joining in! Wait, switch to my side. You’re not hitting anyone.”

He nodded, running over to join her. “You know, this would be easier if we had height.”

“Want to take a climb?”

“I’m not an idiot, Kryze. I know they’d shoot me before I got three foot off the ground.”

Suddenly, Winnie heard her stolen commlink beep. She jumped, scrambling to pull it out of her belt.

“ _ Ca’verd _ ?”

“ _ Ca’senaar _ ?”

“Winnie? That’s you?”

She almost cried with relief, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. “Hi, Mum.”

Riven stared at her, confusion etched on his face. He gestured wildly at the mess they were in. Winnie ignored him.

“You’re safe! Stars,  _ verd’ika _ , I thought you were dead!”

“Well, I’m kind of busy right now. I need to get a new comm anyway - this is too easy to track. You’re safe, though?”

“Yes I am. What’s happening? Why do I hear - Winnie, what’s going on? Why do I hear blasters?”

“I teamed up with another Mando to do a rescue mission. We’re in the middle of a firefight.”

“Winnie!  _ Ori’buyce, kih’kovid _ ! Focus on the fight! But first, where are you?”

“I’m on-”

“Winnie!” Riven yelled. “Get back!”

He yanked on her arm as a volley of bolts flew their way, and she flinched, dropping the commlink. It rolled away from her. She rounded on him, fighting the urge to lash out. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Riven backed off, holding his hands up in surrender. “We’ve done everything we came in for. We have to go, now!”

“No! I have to see if they have anything! I have to get the commlink!!

“Winnie! Don’t be a  _ di’kut _ ! It’s too dangerous! We need to go, now. Don’t risk your life for something silly!”

She glared at him through her helmet, before turning away from him. “I don’t really care if it’s dangerous, Ara’syna. You can go fuck off and do shit all, but I’m not leaving without information. So either you come with me, or stop telling me what to fucking do.”

With that, Winnie ran into the fray, unsheathing her blasters. She ran into the room, blasting angrily.

“When I asked the  _ Ka’ra  _ to help me this is  _ not  _ what I meant!” Riven muttered through the comm. Behind her, she heard him run in after her.

* * *

  
  


“I’m glad you’re testing if your beskar truly works, because this is by far the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done!”

Riven watched as Winnie sheltered behind the desk, before jumping down beside them. “You barely know me.”

“I’d like to think you’re not this much of a  _ di’kut  _ on a daily basis!” he yelled, rolling out from behind the desk and shooting a weequay in the gut. Three people left.

“Riven Ara’syna, I’m going to stab you once we’re done!”

“I highly doubt I’ll be alive then, but sure!”

Riven glanced as Winnie killed another person, moving forward and kicking a woman in the crotch, and she doubled over, trying to punch his gut. He dodged, shooting her in the head.

He heard two shots ring out, and then silence. He looked over, as Winnie limped forward, heading towards the desk.

“Why are you limping- you’re bleeding!”

They pulled off their helmet. “No shit. Look for the commlink, will you? I’ll check for information.”

Riven placed his helmet on the desk, and walked back out the room, scanning the corridor. Where did Winnie drop it?

Oh.

Oh no.

* * *

  
  


Winnie looked up as Riven walked back in. “You found it?”

He looked up at them, before holding out his hand. A smashed commlink lay in his palm. “I’m sorry, Winnie.”

The room got misty, and Winnie slammed their fist into the wall.  _ No _ . This couldn’t be happening. They’d just found out their  _ Buir  _ was alive. They were so so close. Every time they had hope, it was ripped away from them. They were destined for failure, for sadness.

“It’s not your fault. Let’s see if we can find any information on Mandalorians. Check for beskar, I guess.”

Winnie could feel Riven staring at them, at the tears running down their cheeks. They ignored him, rifling through the datapads in the desk. If they couldn’t find any information here - well, Winnie didn’t know what they’d do. They needed to find their Mum. How were they supposed to do this on their own? They were weak, they were foolish, they were Winnie. And Winnie wasn’t enough. 

“There’s no beskar. We’re too late to save that. You got anything?”

Winnie shook their head, before holding up a hand. “Wait. There’s been Mandalorian activity on Raydonia. That’s where I’m heading next.”

“Okay. You got everything you need?”

Winnie nodded. “Yes. Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

  
  


Winnie stood outside with Riven, hands fluttering at her sides. “Thanks for letting me come along. Sorry about causing you chaos.”

Riven smiled. “It was fun, honestly. Haven't had that much fun in a long time. Thank you for helping me.”

Winnie awkwardly stared at her hands, before looking up again. “Well, I need to go patch up my leg, then go find some Mandalorians. It’s been fun, Ara’syna. Hope we can work together another time.” She reached out her arm towards him.

“Winnie, wait.”

She looked up, confused. He sighed.

“I’ve missed being around people. And, well, I want Mandalore back. Let me come with you, team up. It will be safer! We work well together. You’re fun to be with. I can help you, Winnie, you know I can. Please. I can’t watch you struggle to find your family by yourself.”

She looked at him, considering this. He was a good fighter. And having another person would help her. Plus, he wasn’t totally annoying.

“Fine. But we take your ship.”

Winnie thought Riven’s smile would fall off his face if it was any bigger. “Yes! You won’t regret this!”

“I need to grab my stuff from my ship first. And then we go to Raydonia?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Winnie rolled her eyes, smiling. She jammed her helmet on her head, before walking off, turning around to look at him.

  
“Hurry up,  _ di’kut _ ! We don’t have all day!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's how you make friends if you're mandalorian!
> 
> am i being mean to winnie? yes. sue me
> 
> i hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS!  
> manda'ner - closest thing to my god mandos have  
> haran - hell  
> oya - has many meanings, but in this context means 'let's hunt!'  
> ca'verd - night warrior. winnie's codename  
> ca'senaar - night owl. bo's codename  
> verd'ika - little warrior (it's a term of affection)  
> ori’buyce, kih’kovid - all helmet, no head. i think winnie hears this a LOT  
> ka'ra - stars, but in this context the mandalorian myth that they're the council of dead mandalorian leaders


	6. Talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bo gets some exciting news. Winnie and Riven stumble through life on the run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there!
> 
> time works pretty loosely in this chapter. the part from bo's perspective is 3 days post the last chapter, and Winnie's a week later. but time is pretty loose in this story. don't question it *waves hand* jedi business
> 
> this was meant to be two chapters, but it ended up as one. i hope you like it - also fun fact! this is my longest chapter (not that there the longest chapters in general
> 
> hope you enjoy! :D

“Winnie’s alive.”

“What? Really?”

Bo sighed, sitting down heavily on the bunk. “Yes, they are. I don’t know where she is - it’s been three days.”

Fenn sat down beside her. “Talk to me. You haven’t said anything since you called Winnie - you didn’t even tell me you’d contacted her! What happened?”

“Winnie was in a firefight, with someone she’d teamed up with, to do some sort of rescue mission. I asked them where they were, and there was a yell. It wasn’t their voice - I assume it was the Mandalorian she was helping. And then, nothing. I don’t know if Winnie’s dead, or their comm’s broken, or anything.”

Bo felt tears at the edges of her eyes, and she swiped at them furiously. Fenn reached out, gently wiping away her tears.

“I bet they’re okay. You have to trust that she’s trying to contact you. This is out of your control.”

“I know, I know - but they’re going to be eighteen in less than a month. She’s so little. I can’t lose her, Fenn. I can’t.”

“I know, love. I don’t want to lose them either.”

Bo leant her head on his shoulder, feeling his lips brush her forehead. He held her hand gently, and they sat there in silence, marred only by her hitching breaths as she struggled not to cry.

“I love you,” Bo whispered. “Please distract me.”

He turned to face her, gently cupping her face. “I love you too. And yes,” he said, his face morphing into a smirk, “I will distract you.”

He pushed her against the bed, kissing her furiously, pulling at her beskar. She pulled him down closer, struggling to pull off his vambraces.

A cough sounded from the doorway, and they broke apart, staring at the intruder.

“What the actual  _ fuck _ , Koska?” Bo growled angrily, pulling her flightsuit back onto her shoulders.

Koska smirked, before talking. “I think I know where the darksaber is.”

* * *

  
  


The market was bustling, and the sun blazed through the coloured stall covers. Winnie scanned around, revelling the feel of the wind, even under their helmet. People pushed and shoved as they wove their way through the open space, and stalls were littered everywhere.

“Where do you think they sell flour?”

Winnie turned to Riven, who’d ditched his armour back at the ship in favour of just his robes. He’d tried to persuade Winnie to do the same, but they weren’t leaving their armour anywhere. They weren’t taking a chance at losing it, especially after almost losing it on the pirate ship. They felt kind of silly about it - but this was their only reminder of who they were. They were Mandalorian, they’d forged it with their  _ Buir  _ \- and all that seemed to be slipping through their fingers.

“I assume it’ll be on some cake stand. I don’t know. But there’s the spices we want to make  _ uj’alayi _ .”

They headed towards it, but before they got there Riven turned to them, signalling to Winnie to stop walking. He’d not touched them since they’d sacked a trafficking ring, and Winnie was glad. He hadn’t asked them about it either, just helped them hunt for non-Imperial places to find commlinks. He was a good friend, they’d decided.

“This time I’m doing the talking. You are going to be quiet and let me buy everything in peace.”

Winnie crossed their arms, glaring at him under their helmet. “What?! Why not? You’re just being an asshole!”

“No, you’re just really bad at talking to people.”

“That person was ripping us off and you know it!”

“Yes. They were. But one, most places you can’t haggle at. And two, you pulled a blade on them.”

“Sorry I’m not a genius who knows what to say!”

“You don’t pull knives on people!”

Winnie raised their eyebrows. “What if someone was trying to kill me? What then, huh? You’d let me die?”

Riven rolled his eyes. “Stop being pedantic. You  _ know  _ what I meant. This is not Mandalore,  _ di’kut _ ! We could get arrested. Don’t you dare say ‘we can fight’ because I know you’re going to. That’s not the point!”

“Well we could-”

“I just want to have one uneventful market trip. Is that too much to ask?”

Winnie sighed. “Yes. Fine. I won’t talk.”

He flashed them a smile. “You’re the best. Now, which spices do we need again?”

They pointed them out. “You want those two, and a whole ton of that red one. I swear buying spices off Mandalore makes it weaker!”

Riven laughed. “Okay! I will remember that. Now  _ k’uur _ ,  _ di’kut _ .”

Winnie stuck a finger up at him, and he snorted, heading over to the booth. They hovered awkwardly behind him, staring around at the busy market. 

“So that’ll be 12 credits-”

“That’s a rip-off!”

“Excuse me a second,” Riven turned back to them, glaring. “What did we promise?”

Winnie raised their hands in surrender. “Fine! Fine! But it should be at least ten credits!” they yelled to the attendant around his shoulder.

Riven groaned, before turning back to negotiate price. Winnie reached up, carefully removing their braids from where they were tucked up in their helmet, and let them hang down, twisting the ends of their braids between their fingers. He was getting ripped off, and wouldn’t even listen to them, the idiot!

“Are you proud? I got it for nine credits!”

“Ugh, finally! You should have listened in the first place-”

“I have been with you a week and you’ve gotten kicked out of a bar and run from stormtroopers. I’m not listening to you for advice on how to do things.”

Winnie turned away. “What did we need next? Flour?”

Riven nodded. “Yes. But please, Winnie. Please stop trying to negotiate prices-”

“ _ Besom _ .”

“I’m serious, idiot. I just don’t want to end up in a firefight today.”

“Tomorrow then?”

He laughed, pushing through the crowd. “Fine!”

They squeezed pass people, glancing around for a stall with flour. Winnie surreptitiously adjusted the volume on their helmet, limiting the sound coming through. It was too bright and too loud and there were too many people touching them-

“Found it!”

Winnie nodded, struggling to force their mouth to move. Come on voice, please work. Please not now.

“You alright, Winnie?”

They nodded again, and Riven looked at them confused. “Okay, I’m going to go buy the flour. Are you sure you’re fine?”

Winnie forced their mouth to open. “Yes, I’m fine. Go buy flour.”

He looked back worriedly, before moving forward to the stand. Winnie nudged their way to the edge of the crowd. Blood pounded in the ears, and everything was too bright, far too bright. They clenched their hands together tightly, willing themself to breathe. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re-

“Hey, Mando, how much for that armour?”

“Get away from me!” Winnie yelled, shoving outwards blindly. They flipped the shaders on their visor, glaring out at the person who talked. The man walked towards them, holding out a consoling hand. “Hey, uh, lady, I only asked-”

“Don’t fucking touch me,  _ shabuir _ ! Get away from me!”

The man backed off, and relief washed over Winnie. They could feel their cheeks heating up from the stares they were receiving, but they didn’t care. They just wanted to get out of all this noise-

“Hey, Winnie, let’s go, shall we?” Riven spoke softly, walking carefully towards them. Winnie whipped their head around, staring wildly at him.

“I have the flour. Come on, let’s go.” He reached out a hand imploringly, smiling kindly.

“No! No! Leave me alone! I just want to be left alone!” They tore off through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. Where was the ship? They could find solace there. Tears burned at the edges of their eyes, and everything was hot and loud. They could feel every sensation, and every step felt like needles in their feet, every person they brushed past burned their skin. Yet they continued to run, to the only place that seemed to be remotely safe in this hostile galaxy, where they could have quiet.

They got to the docking bay and spun around blindly. Where was the ship? Where was it?

Pounding footsteps rang out behind them, and they spun around, pulling out their  _ beskads _ . The leather handles bit into their hands. Instead, they saw Riven, doubled over and panting, the rucksack swinging wildly off one arm.

“The ship is in that hanger. Come on, Winnie. Let’s go inside. I can fly, okay?”

He walked off towards the ship, and they followed behind him, tugging aggressively at their hair. As Riven inputted the codes and the door opened, he turned back to them, gesturing at the ramp.

“Hey, hey! Let’s not pull our hair out. Let’s get inside, huh?”

Winnie walked inside slowly, and pulled off their helmet and rubbed their face. They stood aimlessly in the middle of the room, brain too overstimulated to think.

“You’re crying? Winnie, do you want to get in the shower? We have enough water so you don’t have to get a sonic one. Then you can come and get some caf, or hide in your cabin. You need to tell me what happened, but we can do that later. Alright?”

Winnie nodded, staring at the floor. They glanced up, and mouthed “thank you” at Riven.

He softened. “I’m going to go get us into hyperspace.”

* * *

  
  


“How are you doing?”

Winnie jolted upright, whipping her head round to see Riven. He raised his hands in surrender, slowly walking over to where she was sitting, sketchbook in hand.

“I’m tired. I think my brain has turned to mush.”

He laughed. “That’s fine. Brains are overrated. Can I ask what happened earlier? You seemed fine and then you just snapped!”

She sighed, pushing the book away and tracing patterns on the table with her finger. “I’m sorry. I just- sometimes my brain just gets too full of noise and light and colour and everything. I don’t know why. I don’t like loud noise, I don’t like bright lights, I don’t like crowds. I can deal with them - by turning down brightness and volume on my helmet, for example. But today was too much. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.”

Winnie could feel Riven looking at her, tracing her with his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. We’ll just do it differently next time. Maybe tell me?”

She nodded. “I can do that, although sometimes I miss.”

Winnie pulled her sketchbook back towards them, pulling her stylus out and doodling in the corners, whilst Riven stared off into space. He absent-mindedly sipped at his caf, humming a tune to himself.

He suddenly turned back towards her. “What are you drawing?”

Winnie looked at her book, tracing over the pictures with a finger. “Oh, I’m painting. Well, drawing. I don’t have paints because they all got destroyed.”

“Can I see?”

She considered this for a moment, before sliding the sketchbook towards him. “Here.”

He sat down beside her, and leaned over the sketchbook. “Woah. Is that me?”

Winnie nodded. “Yes, that’s you.” She pointed at the other figures drawn on the page. “And that’s me and that’s Bo-Katan. Oh and there’s my character called Lorelei. She’s a Mandalorian and has green and blue hair.”

Riven smiled at her. “Wow. These are really good! And I like Lorelei.”

Winnie bounced in her seat, shaking her hands. “You like her? She’s such an old character. I’ve been drawing her since I was twelve!”

“That’s a long time to draw something! You’ve been drawing for a while I take it?”

She bounced on her seat, thinking, before getting up and running to her cabin. “Wait here!”

She palmed open the door, before running to where she’d placed her beskar the day before. Winnie grabbed her pauldrons, before running back into the common area.

“These are the only examples of painting I have. I did the Nite Owl sigil here, and the tooka on the other side. I used to have paintings all over my armour, but it made me stand out too much.”

“They’re wonderful!”

“Not my best work, but I like them! My favourite painting I did was of Tarre Vizsla. It’s probably burned up now, but I loved it. I think my style was really prominent whilst still being clear who I was depicting.” She looked up at him, before realisation dawned on her face. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, promptly smacking herself on the forehead in annoyance, before looking at the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ve talked at you. I just got excited. I’ll be quiet now.”

“I didn’t mind! You said interesting things! And you clearly love it!”

“Really?”

“Yes! It’s nice hearing about things that genuinely excite people! And you looked happy!”

“It makes me very happy. I just don’t want to take over the conversation. I’m far too good at doing that.”

Riven crossed his arms behind his head, kicking his stockinged feet on the table. “Tell me more, Winnie Kryze!”

Winnie smiled. “Well, for starters, there are different art styles.”

* * *

  
  


Hours later, Winnie stumbled tiredly into the communal area, wandering towards the kitchen to grab some water. They hadn’t been able to sleep, and after a glance at the chrono, had decided some water would do them good. Maybe that would make them feel sleepy.

But those plans were uprooted when they saw Riven sitting at the table, head supported by his arms, shoulders shaking. Winnie ran towards him, stopping in front of the table.

“Riven. Riven! What’s wrong?”

He looked up at her, tears sparkling on his cheeks in the dim light. “Nothing. I just had a nightmare,” he said gruffly.

Winnie slid along the bench until they were next to him. “It doesn’t  _ seem  _ like nothing. Do you want to talk about it?”

Riven rubbed his palms against his eyes. “ _ Haar’chak _ . I dreamt about my family.”

“Oh?”

“I watched them die, Winnie! I watched my little brother die, and I could do nothing, let alone the rest of them! It’s not fair! Why did they have to die? Why did I have to be the one to survive?”

He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to stem the tears flowing from them. Winnie watched him, and held out their hand. He took it, and they squeezed it gently.

“I don’t know why they had to die. Well, it was the Empire trying to wipe us out, but that’s not the point. It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry you had to see that. All I can say is we can fight like hell for Mandalore, to honour their sacrifices - not that they should have had to die. Sorry. I’m bad at this.”

Riven chuckled lightly, squeezing their hand back. “No, no. That was alright.”

Winnie smiled at him gently. “Do you think you can sleep? Do you want a drink? You should probably have water as you were crying.”

“I’ll get some water. I’m going to try to go back to sleep. But I might stay up reading.”

Winnie nodded. “I’ll get you some water - I was getting some for myself anyway. And Riven? You do know you can knock on my door if you have a nightmare. I’m not very good at comforting, but I can try.”

He smiled. “You can too. I’m here for you. Plus we’ve teamed up. Moral support and all that.”

  
Winnie shook their head. “I’m here for you too,  _ di’kut _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winnie getting excited about an interest is just a copy-paste of how i act. talking about something you adore is the best feeling - and yes, i will bounce around and monologue whilst telling you about it
> 
> what winnie experienced at the marketplace is called sensory overload. i tried to minimise the description of it, but in essence, every sense is too much and it is painful. it physically hurts. you lash out because "oh my god, this is all too much and computing what you're saying is too much". your brain kinda shuts down. not fun!
> 
> bofenn is canon in this. oops. someone stop me
> 
> i hope you enjoyed a chapter that was, in essence, pure bonding! thank you for all the comments - they make me so happy! you're all lovely!
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS  
> besom - ill-mannered lout/unhygienic person/someone with no manners  
> uj’alayi - a sweet, sticky, spicy fruit and nut cake. very yummy, can confirm  
> k'uur - hush!  
> shabuirs - it's classed as 'jerk, but much stronger'. throw in whatever insult you like. i like 'asshole', in this case


	7. Put your chin up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie spirals downwards, and new information is brought to light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, my friends! (i need some gender-neutral greetings)
> 
> have the longest chapter yet! every time i write, i seem to write more, so yay?
> 
> i like this chapter quite a lot! however, we have some serious warnings, so please heed them!  
> \- the first section, up to the line break, is dark. we have suicidal ideation, very negative thoughts, and self harm. i will give a safe summary at the end, so don't worry about missing a lot! however, if you want to just skip the self harm, skin from "And what was the point of an unfixable Mandalorian?" to the break
> 
> hope you enjoy :D

Sonic showers are the worst, Winnie thought as they stepped out onto the floor. They braced their hands against the sink, staring in the mirror, before pressing a hand against the glass. The person who stared back - well, Winnie didn’t know who they were anymore. They had purple smudges under their eyes, although that wasn’t surprising. They didn’t seem to sleep anymore - not that they tried. Why try when your mind plagues you with nightmares, scrambled memories of being pressed into the floor, of screaming and fighting - but for once in your life, your ability to fight not being enough. They would never be enough, and now they’d never escape their past, no matter how much they dreamed they could.

There wasn’t much about their appearance that they didn’t recognise. They’d always had red hair, always had green eyes, always had freckles. Winnie had always looked this way.

Apart from the scar that cut through their face.

Winnie was fairly sure that was the thing that startled them about their appearance, why the face in the mirror didn’t match up with how they saw themself inside. The disconnect they felt from themself was surely from that, from the physical reminder of everything that had happened, of the whirlwind day that would probably haunt them forever.

Because no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried to be brave, to move on, every day they seemed to crack further, to struggle more. And Mandalorians never broke. Yet here they were, doing exactly what Mandalorians didn’t. Maybe they never were a Mandalorian, never were who they thought. Winnie didn’t think they deserved to be one, in any case.

So maybe that’s why the scar stopped them recognising themself. Because this was a physical reminder that they had failed to save their planet, and had failed to be the one thing they tried to be.

They were a shattered shell of a person - sure, they could hold it together from an outside perspective - and that would never change. The glue they tried to patch themself together with was melting away, and Winnie couldn’t stop it. Couldn't help it. They were well and truly broken, and nothing could fix that.

And what was the point of an unfixable Mandalorian?

Winnie walked over to where they’d thrown their clothes and  _ beskar’gam _ , and picked up their vibroblade, twisting it between their fingers. They could just end it now. It wouldn't matter - they didn’t matter. No one would miss them - why would they? Winnie had failed everything. They couldn't save their planet, couldn’t save their family, couldn’t be a person right. They were explosive and bad at everything.

Winnie certainly wouldn’t miss themself, if they were anyone else.

What would the end feel like? Would their life flash before their eyes? Would it be a slow descent into darkness? They were essentially  _ dar’manda _ , so at least they knew they wouldn’t join  _ Manda _ . That was a painful thought - but real. They didn’t deserve to be a Mandalorian - they clearly weren’t one.

They brushed the point of the blade gently across their wrist, not hard enough to break through their skin. Just get it over with, don’t be a coward in death. You at least owe your Mandalorian heritage that, even if you failed to be one.

Winnie stepped back into the shower (might as well make less of a mess - no use being a burden even in death) and breathed deeply. Okay. Get this over with, idiot.

“Hey, Winnie! Hurry up! I do want to use the shower at some point!”

Winnie squeaked at the sound of Riven’s voice, jumping and dropping the vibroblade to the floor. It clattered loudly, shallowly slicing the surface of their wrist as it fell.

“Winnie! Are you alright? What was that?”

Winnie picked up the blade, hurrying out of the shower. “Nothing! Just let me get my flightsuit on!”

They quickly pulled on their jumpsuit, wiping the blood from their wrist on the side of their leg.  _ Haar’chak _ . They’d have to sneak a bacta patch out of the medkit whilst Riven was in the shower. There was no way they could explain this to him.

Bundling all their armour into their arms, they pressed the control with their elbow and opened the door. Riven was waiting outside, brow furrowed in concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, giving them a once-over with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Get your  _ shebs  _ in the shower.”

He forced a smile, glancing over them again. Winnie prayed they hadn’t started bleeding through their pale flightsuit.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Riven stepped past them, closing the door.

As soon as Winnie had reached their cabin, the bacta patch balanced carefully on the top of their armour, tears had started to pour down their cheeks.  _ Di’kut _ . You can’t even kill yourself correctly, and you didn’t even think of using a blaster - clearly the easiest and cleanest way. And then you hog the shower, even when you know you’re on a tight schedule.

They swiped angrily at their cheeks. Put your chin up, Bro’wyn Kryze. You have to rise above your idiocracy to do today’s mission. You aren’t allowed to break now.

* * *

  
  


“So, who’s this informant you were so keen on meeting?”

Riven sighed, adjusting the hood that was pulled low over his head. Winnie would not shut up about this informant he had found. 

“He is someone I managed to contact about Mandalorians on some holonet website. That’s all you need to know.”

“But you trust him? A random stranger?”

“You need to stop being so paranoid, Winnie. Of course I don’t trust a random informant I managed to contact! But he seems reliable enough. What’s getting you so worked up?”

Winnie turned away, and Riven imagined them seething under their  _ beskar _ . They still refused to take it off, and it endlessly frustrated him. They were trying to go unnoticed, to be as invisible as possible, and here they were, strutting around in  _ beskar _ . Riven didn’t know why he’d teamed up with this idiot. Too bad he liked them, and they knew far too many ways to kill someone.

“I just want to go unnoticed and not get into trouble. The more I know, the easier that is!”

“Well you are wearing  _ beskar- _ ”

“Stop harping on about bloody  _ beskar’gam _ !”

Riven groaned in exasperation. “Armour is more noticeable than your face! What, are you some fancy high-status person who needs to worry about their identity?!”

Winnie smacked him on the arm, and he laughed. They walked in silence for a bit, and he fiddled with the end of his cloak. Winnie twisted their hands together, looking at their feet. Riven paused at this. They were nervous - why were they nervous? Why were they so worried about meeting someone? Winnie threw themselves at things impulsively - so what was so scary about a random person they were only coming to for information, who they probably wouldn’t speak to ever again?

“Hey, Winnie, what’s got you so worked up? This person just has information about Mandalorians - why would that scare you?”

“I’m not scared,  _ besom _ ! Why would you accuse me of being scared, huh? Is it because-”

“Woah!” Riven raised his hands in surrender. “You were just doing your twisty-hands thing and I-”

“What are you now, an expert in my body language? I’m nervous because we’re  _ Mandalorians  _ and he could tell the Imps-”

Riven spun around to face them. “It’s only obvious because you’re wearing armour! If you’d listened to me earlier-”

Winnie picked up their pace, turning around and calling over their shoulder. “I am not having this argument with you again!”

Riven hurried to catch up. “Seriously, Wins, what’s such a big deal about taking off your armour? No one will recognise you.”

They laughed awkwardly. “I just don’t want to take off my armour. Can’t you just accept that?”

He sighed. “Fine. But you can talk to me, you know that?”

Winnie nodded, before bumping their shoulder against his amicably. “Same for you, idiot.”

He laughed, nudging them back. They giggled, pushing him. He reciprocated, and they ran down the street, shoving each other into the walls and laughing.

* * *

  
  


“Meeting in a back-alley? That’s a bit odd.”

Riven turned to Winnie, face shadowed by the lack of light and the hood pulled low over his face. “I tried to get him to meet us in a bar or something - but he insisted! And look, I couldn’t let this info slide.”

Winnie nodded, fiddling with the night vision settings on her helmet. “I know. Still, suspicious. This is a backwater sewer - literally.” She gestured to the mess surrounding them. Piles of rubbish were scattered over the floor, small rodents scurrying in and out of it. Winnie didn’t think she wanted to know what animals those were, or what they were picking from. The smell was horrendous. “It’s not exactly a prime place for anything - and yes, I know, spies. But still. The most likely thing to happen to us here is that we get robbed!”

Riven smiled, before turning away to peer around again. “I highly doubt anyone will want to rob you. You’re armed to the teeth!”

“I actually don’t have any weapons in my mouth. I have knives in the soles of my shoes, though.”

“It’s an exp-”

Suddenly, a robed figure swung down from the side of the alley. A cloak obscured his face, and hung down to his feet. Winnie peered through the gloom, trying to obtain any details about him. Nothing jumped out, apart from the sharp click his boots made as he hit the floor.

“Are you the person I talked to?”

Riven stepped forward, gesturing at Winnie to stay back. “ _ Atin ca _ , yes. And you must be Nemo?”

He nodded, and stepped forward. “And I suppose you have the money?”

“Yes, but talk first. Otherwise how do I know you won’t take it and run, or betray us?”

He laughed harshly. “You never know, I may betray you afterwards. But I won’t. You ain’t worth enough. Unless, of course, you were Bo-Katan Kryze or such like. I highly doubt you’d be risking yourselves out here if you were. Did you know she has a kid? Can’t remember her name. Strikes me as odd - you wouldn’t expet someone like  _ her  _ to have a child knocking around.”

Riven laughed, and Winnie forced one.

“Now, you wanted information. I ain’t got much, but I got something. See, there’s been this Mandalorian group. A trio, maybe more. They’ve been causing the Imps a lot of trouble lately - strategically attacking ‘n’ all that.”

Winnie stepped forward, breath catching in her throat. “What else?”

“Well, they say it’s led by Bo-Katan herself, which I think is a load of bullshit-”

“I don’t care what you think. Tell me what you have!”

Riven threw Winnie a disapproving glance. She ignored him.

“They’ve been attacking ships, stealing armour, the like. Apparently they’ve allied with that ragtag bunch of rebels, but I don’t trust the guy who told me that. Whatever the case, they’re certainly causing them a lot of grief. Word says they’re after some sort of laser-sword.”

Winnie gasped. The darksaber? But Mum had that! She’s had it clipped to her belt when she knocked Winnie out of the way. Unless- unless she’d lost it. Then who had it? What had happened after she’d lost consciousness?

Oh no.

Winnie listened back into the conversation, about what they’d been attacking. But none of this mattered! If  _ Buir  _ didn’t have the darksaber, that was bad, but she could get it back. They just needed to know where they were, so they could find them.

“Where are they? The Mandalorians, where are they?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t have that-”

Winnie surged forwards, slamming him into the wall. She unsheathed her vibroblade from her gauntlet, and held it to his neck.

“Tell me. Where. Are. They?”

“Winnie, stop!”

They flicked their head towards Riven. “Shut it, idiot!” 

They pressed the man harder against the wall, brushing the blade gently across his throat. “Now, you are going to tell me everything you know, okay? Have I made myself clear? Or do I need to disembowel you? That would be painful.”

He grunted, trying to squirm away. “Fine. they were last seen on Axxila. But that’s all I know, I swear!”

Winnie dropped him, walking back to Riven. “That wasn’t hard, was it? Now, come on. You can have your money.” She jabbed Riven in the side, and he jolted, throwing the money over. His face was painted with disbelief - although Winnie could detect a faint flush on his cheeks, for some reason.

“Now, we’ll be heading off. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will find you and kill you. Bye!”

She dragged Riven away, pulling him back into the harsh daylight. Winnie paused for a second, adjusting the vision settings on her helmet, before punching him solidly in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” Riven rubbed his arm, looking up at her with hurt in his eyes.

“You said my name! This is meant to be anonymous!”

“You were the one who threatened to kill him!”

“I didn’t kill him! I knew he was hiding valuable information. People like him always do! And now we know where to go next, anyway.”

“How was I supposed to know you weren’t going to kill him! I’ve never seen you do that before!”

“Well, clearly, you’re missing out!”

Riven shook his head, pinching the top of his nose. “ _ Manda’ner _ . I need a drink.”

Winnie pointed. “There’s a bar down the road. I saw it on the way here.”

“How could you see anything on the way here? You were too busy shoving me into the wall!”

Winnie folded her arms. “I think the real question is how you didn’t. You were shoving me too, remember?”

He laughed. “You’ve got me there,  _ ner vod _ .”

_ Ner vod _ ? That was a new nickname. She smiled under her helmet. “Well, let’s both go get a drink, and then head back to the ship.”

Riven shook his head. “Oh, hell no. Last time we went to a bar, you got into a fight and almost got killed. You can wait outside, or go back to the ship.”

She scowled. “That’s not fair! I won’t get into one this time. Promise!”

He shook his head again in exasperation. “Fine. Don’t make me regret this,” he added, as Winnie skipped away.

* * *

  
  


“What’s your excuse this time?” Riven yelled towards Winnie, as they raced down the street.

“He was being awful towards a woman. I couldn’t not fight him!”

“And set a whole gang on us? Winnie, you could have reasoned-”

“I did! I did! It’s not my fault! He threw the first punch, anway!”

Riven turned backwards towards them, and grabbed their hand, ignoring the fact they flinched away. “Don’t touch me-”

“I’m trying to speed us up! I’m not going to hurt you, I swear!”

Winnie shoved their racing thoughts to the back of their mind, forcing the panic down. “Hey, at least I didn’t kill anyone!”

They watched as he tried to hold back a smile. “This time, anyway.”

“See! That’s something to be grateful for!”

“I’ll be grateful when we’re back on the ship,” he replied, turning the corner towards the docking bays. He let go of their hand, palming roughly at his vambrace. The ramp slid down, and he ran in, yelling that he’d get the engines fired up. Winnie turned around at the top of the ramp, throwing a jaunty salute towards the people chasing them.

“See you later, assholes!”

They ran through the ship, sliding into the copilot’s seat. Riven steered them upwards, making the calculations for hyperspace.

“You’re a  _ di’kut _ , you know that?”

Winnie nodded, pulling off their helmet and resting it on the edge of the headrest. “I have been informed.”

They jolted into hyperspace, and he spun around in his seat. “You do need to be more careful. I would like to be alive. And I’d rather you didn’t die, either.”

They nodded. “I’ll be more careful. Sorry.”

“You’re fine.”

Winnie fiddled with the end of a braid, retying the band around it. “Want some soup?”

Riven nodded. “Sure. I need to fix up the ship - can you help later?”

“Yes.” They walked out of the room, skipping slightly as they walked towards the kitchen area.

I will be more careful, for Riven’s sake if anyones, they thought to themself. Although, I can’t say I agree with the sentiment about being alive.

* * *

  
  


“So, you would eat a mythosaur?”

Riven laughed, the vibration shaking Winnie as she leaned slightly on his shoulder. They were meant to be planning how to track down the Mandalorians, but now it was the early hours of the morning and all they’d done was doodle on the paper.

“Obviously! This is a mythical being that no one has seen in thousands of years. I’ll be the first one to eat it!”

“Not tame it?”

He turned his head to face her. “That is too much effort.”

Winnie laughed, poking him in the arm. “That is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. Fine. You can eat it after I’ve ridden around on it and it’s died of old age.”

“Deal!”

Laughter filled the cabin they were in, and Winnie smiled. She glanced up at Riven, who was drawing a stick-figure of her riding a mythosaur.

“Credit for your thoughts?”

Riven turned to face her. “My thoughts are pretty boring. Plus, I know you’re broke.”

“Better than sitting in silence.”

He shrugged. “Well, I’m glad that I teamed up with you. You’re funny, if reckless and dumb occasionally.”

Winnie gasped in mock betrayal. “How dare you!”

RIven pushed on, ignoring her. “I also think there is probably more of a chance of getting Mandalore back than I expected. And I’m also thinking about what that guy said about Lady Kryze having a child. That’s a strange thought.”

Winnie pulled her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms. It’s okay. He doesn’t know who you are.

“I suppose it is.”

“You grew up active in the resistance. Did you meet the kid?”

Winnie could feel pinpricks of blood in her palm. I should just tell him. There wouldn’t be any harm. “No! I didn’t know she had one.”

He nodded. “Oh well. I’m tired - think I’m going to head to bed. Night, Wins.”

“Goodnight,  _ ner vod _ .”

Riven’s face lit up, smiling, and he waved to her, before sliding his cabin door shut. Winnie slumped in her seat. Why didn’t she just tell him? She could trust him, no matter what the nagging voice at the back of her head said.

She needed to get a grip on herself, stop being so weak. She was just overreacting, being silly. She needed to clear her head and get some sleep. She needed to stop being so damn stupid. She was fine.

She had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***SAFE SYNOPSIS*** winnie stares at their reflection, and their scar reminds them of everything that happened to them on that day. they think they failed to save their planet, and are dar'manda. they don't see any point of living, so almost attempt suicide. however, riven startles them, and the scrape their wrist. they get mad at themselves for being 'silly', and tell themself that they can't break
> 
> fun fact! the informant's codename was 'nemo', which is the latin word for nobody - but it also makes me laugh a lot
> 
> if you wonder what winnie looked like when she pinned him against the wall, just watch bo pinning sabine to the wall in rebels. or any other instance where she pins someone to the wall. you won't regret it, whatever the case ;)
> 
> and as we had that whole mess from winnie, here's an important reminder. you are NOT weak for struggling, or needing help. asking for help is brave. if you feel suicidal, or that you may harm yourself, reach out to someone, or a phoneline such as samaritan's. asking people for help is important. you are not a burden. you are so, so loved. if not from anyone else, from me. i love you. and it does get better, trust me - and i know that's annoying to hear. but i survived, and so can you. reach out to someone, check on the people you love. you are doing so, so well. i'm proud of you
> 
> i have no idea how to do a fancy imbedded link, but i have a tumblr and an instagram - the same username as here - strawberriesinmoominvalley. i'd love to say hi!
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS!  
> dar'manda - a state of not being mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul (so a pretty awful thing to be)  
> manda - the collective soul or heaven (where your souls go when you die)  
> atin ca - stubborn/tenacious/enduring night  
> ner vod - my friend (although vod implies a good friend, in contrast to the usual word for friend, burc'ya)


	8. Spirals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie crashes and burns. New information comes to light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> greetings, scoundrels!
> 
> welcome to angst. this chapter is... kind of painful. so have fun with that!
> 
> if there are any mistakes, you have my deepest regrets. i'm exhausted
> 
> also, if the timeline is a bit squiffy... jedi business. go back to your drinks
> 
> enjoy!

Winnie knocked on Riven’s door loudly, the noise echoing around the quiet ship. “Wake up, sleepyhead! We have twenty minutes until we land on Axxila, so you better shift yourself!”

A muffled groan came from inside, and they smirked. “You have thirty seconds to get up before I drag you out of bed. Do you want some caf?”

A slurred “yes” came from his room, and Winnie headed into the small kitchen area, pulling out two cups. Just before they were going to turn around and barge into Riven’s cabin, the door slid open and he stumbled out. Winnie snorted, muffling giggles behind their hand. His hair was everywhere, and he seemed like he was sleepwalking. They pressed a cup into his hand, and he mumbled a thanks.

“Did you sleep well?” Winnie asked, barely containing laughter.

He glared at them, before taking a long sip from his caf. “I’ve had-” he glanced at the chrono “- less than five hours sleep. What do you think?”

“Better than nothing.”

Riven shrugged, and the room lapsed into silence. Winnie fidgeted, humming a tune under their breath.

He turned to them suddenly, pointing a finger accusingly.  "You are far too awake. You didn't sleep, did you? We say  _ gar shuk meh kyrayc _ for a reason!"

"I've had six cups of caf and you don't want to know how much sugar I put in them. I'll be fine!"

Riven sighed, pressing his palm to his face. “Oh, that explains why you’re vibrating.  _ Manda’ner _ . Great. You are an idiot, you know that?”

Winnie nodded. “Yep! But at least I’m not still in my sleep-clothes. Hurry up! We have things to do!”

Riven walked away, muttering under his breath, before turning around and calling over his shoulder. “You are absolutely going to be the death of me, Kryze!”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way!”

* * *

  
  


Axxila was a city-planet, and Winnie hated it. Now, Riven was a patient person, no doubt about that, but if they complained one more time he was going to explode.

“Winnie, I understand that you hate this place, but please stop complaining.”

They sighed, turning to face him. “Fine. But believe me, if we weren’t coming here on a mission, I would never come to this planet.”

“I never could have guessed.”

Riven didn’t think he liked this place much, either. The buildings towered overhead, proud and cold. The streets bustled with people, pushing and shoving past. It was busy and loud and hostile. And also-

“Get back!”

Riven shoved into Winnie, pushing them into an alley. They both tripped, Riven landing sprawled on top of them. They squeaked and froze, seemingly fixed in place. He rolled off them, lying propped up next to them in the dark alley.

“Sorry, there were stormtroopers. What they’re doing here on an outer-rim planet I have no idea. I guess this is a city. Are you okay?”

He glanced worriedly at Winnie, whose chest was heaving and still seemed frozen, body tensed. Riven reached out tentatively towards them, before pulling back.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, they slumped, pushing themself up. He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Winnie, are you alright? What happened?”

They snarled, pulling off their helmet. Winnie’s green eyes seemed to flash in the semi-darkness. “You could’ve given me a warning, asshole!”

“There wasn’t time! What upset you?”

“I’m fine,  _ besom _ , but next time give me a warning.” They swiped fiercely at their eyes. “Now, let’s get going, so we can hurry up and get off this stupid planet.”

“You should take your armour off, or at least keep your helmet off. Just pull a cloak over everything. There are troopers, Winnie. They’ll be on the lookout for Mandos, ‘specially since those others were here.”

Winnie snorted. “Not this again. My armour will be fine.”

“They’re on the lookout for Mandalorians! Why else would they be on some unimportant planet?”

Winnie frowned. “Well, actually, this is a good place for smuggling. A lot of people do that here. Maybe that’s why”

Riven sighed.  _ Manda  _ help me with this idiot, who surely is trying to make my life  _ haran _ . “That’s probably why the Mandalorians were here, to buy weapons from smugglers. The Imps are probably only here because they caused a fuss.”

“So they might still be here?”

Riven stuck his head out of the alley. The coast was clear. “Don’t get your hopes up. Now, what are you doing about the helmet?”

“I’m wearing it!”

“Do you ever listen to a word I say?”

“Yes, but those words were dumb. If we are going to find some Mandalorians, how are they going to recognise us? Armour!”

“There aren’t going to be any Mandalorians. They’ll be long gone.”

“No! They will be here!”

Winne jammed their helmet on their head, and stormed back into the street. Riven adjusted his hood lower on his face, and followed. What was up with Winnie today? He’d never seen them freeze like that before. He was used to their flinching, but not that. He was worried, in all honesty. They were going to get them both killed.

* * *

  
  


“When you said you’d find us the most seedy-looking bar, I didn’t picture anything like this.”

Riven spun on the barstool next to her. “What, does this not meet your high standards? I for one think it’s delightful!”

Winnie rolled her eyes, glancing round. Grime seemed to coat the walls, and the bar was far too sticky. She’d put her hand down on it earlier and deeply regretted it. It was the worst, most irritating feeling ever. “Delightful for a sewer, maybe.”

Riven grinned, before taking a sip from his drink. He barely hid the grimace, and Winnie cackled.

“Look, this may be probably the worst place I’ve been, but look around. You aren’t going to find a better place for information here. Half these people smuggle, I bet. Plus, why would a skughole like this be so crowded if not for that?”

She nodded, clasping her helmet tighter where she’d balanced it in her lap. She had a drink, and was trying to play the part, but it was  _ loud  _ in here. All she wanted to do was hide under her helmet, let that do the talking. This whole flying under the radar business was not her forte.

“So what do we do? Just go up to someone and ask?”

Riven shook his head. “That would be stupid. We wait for someone to come to us.”

“That will take too long! We might miss them!”

Riven shook his head. “They’re not gonna be here. But fine, we can ask. Just let me do the talking? I’m sick of bar fights.”

Winnie nodded, fiddling with the rangefinder on her helmet, as Riven slipped off his stool and walked over to a group of people huddled around a table. She needed the Mandalorians to be here. They had to be here. Because her Mum could be here. And sure, Nemo or whatever his name was, had said it was a rumour. But Winnie had to believe it was true, had to believe that their  _ Buir  _ was here. Everything was going wrong, and they were trapped in a spiral. They were drowning. That wouldn’t be fixed by seeing their Mum, they knew that, but at least they’d be home again. And in a broken galaxy, maybe that’s all that mattered.

“Hey, Winnie, I’ve found some people who dealt with the Mandalorians.”

She jolted at the sound of his voice, before sliding off her stool, tucking the helmet under her arm. Riven led her over to the table, which four people sat around. A hulking Nautolan seemed to be the head, surrounded by a couple of Weequays and a Mirialan with tattoos across her forehead.

A Weequay spoke as she sat down. “Hey, you’re a pretty girl. Too bad you have a scarred face, or people would pay more than a few credits for you.”

Winnie slammed her helmet sharply on the table. “Let’s clear some things up before you tell me what I want to know. Firstly, I am not a girl, so don’t refer to me as such. Secondly,” she unsheathed her vibroblade for a moment, watching the blade glitter in the dim light, “if you mention my scar again, I will give you a matching one. I sharpened this today, and it would be nice to test it out.”

The four of them stared at her in shock. She smirked, leaning back in her seat, and nudged Riven sharply. He startled, before leaning forward.

“So, uh, tell me about the Mandalorians you sold too. Leave no details out. We can pay.”

The Nautolan paused for a second, as if considering this, and then leaned forward, mirroring Riven. “There were three of them. They were all armoured up, in blue. They had that logo on their shoulders, too,” they added as an afterthought, gesturing towards the Nite Owl sigil on Winnie’s pauldron.

Her breath caught in her throat. Very few people wore this sigil - the remnants of Mum’s Nite Owls, Protectors and members of Clan Kryze. Could it be her?

Winnie rested her elbows on the table, feigning casualness. “Did you see their faces?”

They nodded. “Yes. We met them here beforehand. Hmmm… There was a dark-haired woman, and a red haired man. He had different armour to the women. The leader was red-headed too, similar to yours. Headband in her hair. Now, she looked like - what’s her name - Bo-Katan Kryze, that lady that led Mandalore before it was scorched.”

Riven and Winnie stared at each other, eyes wide. Winnie could barely contain her joy, and promptly sat on her hands to stop them moving. Bo-Katan. Mum. She was still alive - and finally within reach.

Riven regained control first, and pressed onwards. “What happened when you met them?”

“Well, we negotiated prices, then took them to the warehouse. They took the goods - mostly blasters and jetpacks and such - then stole a few fucking things from us and left. That’s all we had to do with them. Apparently they got into some huge fight, but that’s all I know.”

The Nautolan smiled, before holding out their hand. “Now, give us the money.”

Winnie frowned, before leaning forward. “ Not yet. Tell me where they went, if you know. Are they still here?”

The Nautolan laughed, their tendrils shaking with their mirth. “Oh, you sweet, naïve child. Of course they’re not still here. Why would they be? And with the damage they caused? I don’t suppose they’ll ever come back.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

“Where did they go, then?”

The Nautolan reached forward, grabbing Winnie’s chin. She yanked it out of their grasp, flashing her vibroblade in retaliation.

“My sweet summer child. Your emotions really are painted on your face - you’re so upset. You think I know? Are you really that desperate you’ll ask anyone?”

She had been  _ so close _ .

Winnie snarled, reaching down to grab her blaster. Riven stopped her, before sliding over a few credits.

“Thanks for your help. We’ll be off now.”

The four of them laughed, before the Mirialan leaned forward. “I don’t think you will. See, the Empire’s after Mandalorians. Now, you gotta earn a living, but a little bit more won’t hurt.”

A commotion broke out by the door. A couple of stormtroopers were forcing their way in, shoving people out the way. Fingers pointed towards where Winnie and Riven sat.

Riven turned to Winnie. “Now, I’ve ran from bars far too many times with you, but you wanna add another to our list?”

* * *

  
  


They ran through the streets, twisting and turning as much as they could. They'd managed to escape without too much fuss, as Winnie had finally agreed to hide their helmet temporarily, clipping it to their belt and tucking their cloak around it. It wouldn’t have mattered much either way. Their brain was too much of a whirlwind to argue back.

They had been so close. They’d let themself get their hopes up, only to be bitterly disappointed. Deep down, Winnie had known that they probably weren’t going to be able to see their Mum, but hope had built up - only to be utterly squashed. And now they were running for their life, and they were too hot and it was too bright and it was too loud and they didn’t know what to do. Everything had spun out of control.

“You do remember where the ship is, don’t you?”

Riven turned around to shoot a blaster bolt over his shoulder, before speeding up again. “Yes. It’s not too far away.”

They finally rounded the corner and came face to face with the kom’rk. And about five stormtroopers, interrogating the other people with ships landed.

“Oh, fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly, Wins.”

Winnie ducked behind some crates, pulling Riven down with them. “Do we just walk up? Act casual? We could jump on once we get close enough.”

Riven nodded. “That might just work.”

Winnie and Riven strolled up cautiously, pretending to be in deep discussion. Just as Riven was about to open the door, a loud voice stopped them.

“Halt. Who are you?”

Riven pressed a button on the side of the ship and the door opened. “I’m, uh, Riven. And this is Winnie.”

They glared at him, and he shrugged his shoulders. They started edging towards the ramp.

“Have you seen any Mandalorians around? They have… red hair and green skin.” The trooper glanced at them. “Wait a second-”

Riven ran into the ship as quick as a whip, and Winnie started running up the ramp. “Uh, we aren’t them?”

They internally facepalmed themself. That wasn't convincing in the slightest. Which was agreed upon by the trooper, who continued to speak into his commlink.

Winnie shot him, causing heads to turn as they shot up the ramp. But just before the door closed, they heard something that chilled them to the bone.

“The red-haired Mandalorian - I think it’s Bro’wyn Kryze!”

* * *

  
  


Winnie stood in the middle of the room, as Riven eased the ship into hyperspace. She angrily pulled at her armour, slowly tugging it off. Hot tears streaked down her face.

This wasn’t meant to happen.

Why did everything bad happen to her? Was she cursed? No, she reasoned with herself. She’d found out her  _ Buir  _ was still alive.

But they’d been so close, maybe mere hours apart, and she’d missed her. Winnie had been so convinced she’d see her, that today would be good. But no. Everything was spiralling out of control, and there was nothing she could do. 

She yanked her flightsuit down to her waist, trying to get the hot, sticky, pressurised feeling that had crawled over her skin since Riven had pushed her out of harm's way. It wasn't his fault her brain decided to flash memories like films inside her eyelids, sticking her back in that awful moment. The cool air of the ship seemed to sting her bare arms, and she shuddered, shaking her arms.

Riven walked in. “We’re in- are you okay?”

Winnie jumped at the sudden intrusion, before scowling and throwing her gauntlet across the room.

“I’ll take that as a no. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Winnie yelled in frustration, scratching at her arms.

“Hey! Let’s not hurt ourselves, okay? Just talk to me.”

Winnie fought to keep the burning behind her eyes under control. Riven didn’t understand. She felt hot and overwhelmed and when had the ship become so loud?

“No! Leave me alone!”

He walked over to her carefully. “Winnie? Is there anything I can do?”

“You can fuck off, that’s what you can do!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

The dam broke. Winnie screeched, throwing the last piece of her armour before sinking to the floor. She sobbed, huddling in a ball, tearing the skin of her arms under her fingernails.

“Stop hurting yourself. Talk to me, please.” He sat down beside her.

“Go away! Leave me alone! I don’t want to fucking talk to you!”

“Winnie, is this about the Mandalorians? You knew we couldn’t get there in time, right? Is that what’s got you so worked up?”

She looked up for a second and shoved him. “Fuck off!”

“Is it because I knocked you over? I’m sorry about that.”

“Leave me alone or I’ll gut you!”

Riven sighed. “You have to talk to me.”

Winnie pulled her knees up tighter to herself, tears soaking into her jumpsuit as she buried her face in them.

“Winnie, you need to talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s upsetting you.”

“I’m not telling you anything!” Winnie scratched her nails along her bare arms, trying to distract herself from the whirlwind that was her mind. Riven grabbed her hands, and she flinched away, pulling hard at them.

“Let me go! Let me fucking go-”

Riven spoke with more force than WInnie had ever heard. “No. This is the third time you have scratched yourself. I won’t let you hurt yourself. That’s why I won’t leave you alone.”

She lifted her face, scowling at him, face flushed red from crying and screaming. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She wanted space. Winnie kicked out with her legs, trying to push him away.

“Leave me alone!”

“No!”

Winnie’s voice scratched her throat, but she couldn't seem to stop screaming. “Leave me alone! I don’t care that I could hurt myself! Leave me alone!”

“Well, I care about it! I care about you! I will leave you alone, but you haven’t proven that you’re going to be safe!”

“Then stop caring about me!”

Stunned silence filled the room. They both froze, staring at each other.

“Winnie, I-”

“No. Stop. Stop saying you care about me. Because it doesn’t make any difference. Nothing makes any difference.”

“But I do care about-”

“You know nothing of me!” Her voice caught in her throat, but she pressed on, ignoring the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “You know nothing about me, or my life, or what’s happened to me. You know nothing - so stop trying to care!”

Riven’s eyes shone with tears, and trickled down his face. Winnie had never seen him so shocked, or so  _ sad _ . Guilt threatened to overwhelm her, and she pushed it down, shuffling over to the corner of the room and resting her head against the cool metal of the wall.

It’s good you upset him, a tiny voice in her head whispered. Let him hate you. Then nothing will matter anymore, because you’ll be alone. And that’s better, because you always hurt people. You always lose people. You always fail.

Winnie buried her face in her knees again, shoulders shaking. Why did I have to survive? Why can’t I be strong?

Why did it have to be me?

Winnie wasn’t sure how much time she spent crying. Her throat ached, and her eyes burned. Her brain seemed to be looping memories, of her yelling at Riven, of her waking up alone, of her being pressed into the hard floor of a strange ship. She tugged at her hair, willing it to stop, willing everything to end. Tears kept on falling, and she rocked slowly, trapped in horrors that only she could see.

She heard footsteps, and looked up, undershirt soaked in sweat, as Riven sat down quietly next to her, back pressed into the wall, arms folded over his knees.

“I do know something of you, though.”

She turned her face to look at him, eyes red and swollen from crying. “Do you?” Her voice came out a harsh whisper, cracking slightly.

He nodded. “Yes. You’re kind. You’re brave. You’re tenacious, if annoyingly stubborn. You’re impulsive. You’re funny.” He sighed slightly, crossing his legs and shifting to face her. “Maybe I don’t know everything about you. But I know you, even if I don’t know your life story.”

She smiled slightly, squiffling round to face him, mimicking his posture. “Why are you still being nice to me? I’ve been awful to you. Just leave me be. I’ll leave your ship at the next stop, if you want”

Riven reached out, lying his hand open on his knee. Winnie tentatively took it, and he squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“You’re my best friend. Don’t you get that? I  _ want  _ to help you.”

She shook her head, smiling slightly. “You’re a  _ di’kut _ .”

He laughed gently, running his thumb against the back of her hand. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Winnie looked down. “I’ve been awful to you. I’m a fucking mess. I flinch at touch, for  _ Manda’s  _ sake! I just... I don’t understand why you’re still trying to help me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

He ran a hand through his hair, making the curls shake slightly. “You were upset. And don’t get me wrong, you frustrate me sometimes. But we’re friends. We’re a team. Can’t you just trust me? Talk to me? Please, Wins.”

Winnie stiffened, pulling her hand away. Hurt flashed across his face and guilt threatened to overwhelm her for the second time today. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can trust anyone anymore.”

“What happened?”

She shook her head, braids swinging. “I’m not talking about it. Look - sometimes, bad things happen. And they hurt you. And you have no idea how to piece yourself back together afterwards.” Winnie could feel her voice raising, but couldn’t seem to stop it. “And sometimes you’re so broken, that you poison everything. You can’t even be nice to the one person who you still have, who still somehow cares, because all you do is hurt people. Because you’ve been so hurt, your mind tries to destroy you from the inside out. And you can never escape your past. Ever.”

“So I can’t trust you! How can I trust anyone?”

Sobs wracked her body, and she buried her face in her palms. She’d cried so much today. Maybe she really was dying.

“I’m so sorry, Winnie.”

She looked up, laughing bitterly. “What do you have to be sorry for? This is in the past.”

Riven grabbed her arms, and held her hands gently. For once, Winnie didn’t flinch away.

“No, I am sorry. I’m sorry someone would hurt you. And I promise I will never, ever hurt you. And I will get you back to your mum, and I will help you restore Mandalore.”

“I thought you said it was impossible?” Winnie asked, voice raw.

“Maybe. But you deserve it. And I’d like my home back, too.”

She stared at him, as if seeing him clearly for the first time. “You’re… angry?”

“I am angry. And sad, and determined. I’m angry because you’ve had bad things happen to you, that you didn’t deserve. I’m not sure what, but I can tell that as much. I’m sad that we don’t have a planet, that you’re sad, I’m sad because you said things that upset me, I’m sad that I lost my family. But I’m determined to get Mandalore back.”

Winnie squeezed his hands gently. “I’m sorry that I made you sad. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Shall we go get something to eat and drink? It’s been hours, and you must be thirsty, at the very least.”

Winnie nodded, before yawning. “Sorry. I’m tired.”

He chuckled, standing up, before holding out a hand to pull her up. “No wonder! I’m tired, and I haven’t been crying for hours!”

She punched Riven lightly on the arm, stumbling slightly as her head span for a second. He grabbed her arm gently, righting her.

“Right then,  _ ner vod _ , let’s go get some soup! But first-” his face took on an air of nervousness “- do you need a hug? Can I give you one?”

Winnie nodded, and suddenly her face was pressed into his chest, arms wrapped around her tightly. She pulled herself tighter against him, sighing. Riven rocked her slightly, and for the first time in almost two months, Winnie felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, that ended somewhat happily! winnie got a hug!
> 
> we haven't seen bo for a couple of chapters - don't worry, she's coming... she is *cackles*
> 
> your comments are so sweet, so thank you for that <3
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS!  
> gar shuk meh kyrayc - you're no use dead - said to encourage someone to rest


	9. As high as Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie and Riven cause a commotion, before disaster strikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, my glitter kittens!
> 
> welcome back to shenanigans!
> 
> no bo in this chapter, i'm afraid. she's definitely going to be in the next chapter though, so look forward to that!
> 
> i'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter, even if it was a lot. this chapter is a little happier, i assure you
> 
> hope you all like it! :D

It was a few days later when they finally decided to go to Raxus. Winnie had been all for it - after all, it was their idea - but Riven had taken longer to persuade. In all honesty, Winnie was more excited about seeing the sunlight than anything else. They were bored of being stuck in a ship.

Not to say it hadn’t been nice to relax for a bit. Riven had been kind to Winnie after their meltdown. He’d insisted that bacta should be put on their arms, which Winnie had scraped raw. They’d given in after a fight, and Riven had helped them apply it. He’d raised his eyebrows when he saw the cut on the inside of their wrist, from when they’d dropped their vibroblade, but hadn’t commented on it. Winnie was glad about that, to say the least.

He’d made their favourite soup, and they’d watched silly holonet shows together, laughing over the idiocracy of them. Riven’s favourites were ones about Mandalorians, and Winnie had to admit they were so inaccurate it was funny.

They’d fallen asleep like that, as Winnie found out when they’d jolted awake after a nightmare. They’d panicked at first - after all, waking up on someone’s shoulder didn’t bring back the greatest memories - but calmed down when they’d seen who it was. Winnie had tucked a blanket around him before going to their own cabin. They’d almost missed the warmth of Riven.

It was nice to have a friend, really, Winnie thought.

Bur Winnie had a plan, and they would be damned if they didn’t follow it through. They would reunite with their Mum if it was the last thing they’d do.

“Winnie! We’re about to drop out of hyperspace! Have you finished getting ready?”

They palmed open their cabin door, sliding their  _ beskads  _ into their belt. “Yes! Have you eaten?”

“Not yet!”

They stopped at the kitchen, before walking to the cockpit door and throwing a bread roll at Riven’s head. It bounced off, and he glared at them over his seat, picking it up.

“See, I’m still going to say thanks, as I wasn’t raised in a barn.”

Winnie swung into the copilot’s seat. “You know, I did live in a barn for a bit. It was pretty fun, until it burnt down.”

“That explains a lot, then.”

They dropped out of hyperspace and Raxus loomed in front of them, glowing blue and white. Winnie itched to paint it - it wasn’t the prettiest planet they’d seen (Concord Dawn held that title), but it had a certain beauty to it.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? This could be dangerous.”

“Says the person still refusing to wear  _ beskar’gam _ ,” Winnie muttered.

“This place used to be a place with lots of Separatists - you told me that! So of course there’ll be Imps here - you really don’t understand the meaning of stealth, do you?”

Winnie scowled. “I do understand stealth! But we’re literally breaking up a slaving ring again! Armour does help make sure you don’t get hurt, you know?”

Riven opened his mouth to argue, but Winnie spoke over him. “Look. I know you’re worried. But I’d rather you not die because you weren’t wearing beskar. Besides, we’re meant to be getting attention - our plan was to be as loud as possible so that other Mandalorians have a chance at finding us! With us causing a commotion and them, well, one of us is going to get to a planet in time.”

He groaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

They smiled. “I’ll finish flying. You go put your armour on.”

Riven got up, and Winnie switched seats. He squeezed their shoulder briefly, smiling, before heading towards the door. Before he left the room, he turned back to face them. “Please fly nicely. Your flying is awful.”

“My flying is fine! We get there alive, and I’m good! Just because you don’t like-”

“We are not repeating Dantooine!”

They folded their arms. “I make a mistake once and now it’s all you bring up. I miss my jetpack.”

* * *

  
  


“We are  _ so  _ going to get caught.”

Winnie skipped down the street beside him, holding her hood up over her helmet. This part of Raxus wasn’t particularly busy, and they weren’t in the capital, which helped. Still, they talked through their two-way comms in their helmets. “We’re going to be fine! We’re going to free people, and at least maim some awful people, and cause a big commotion!”

“If we’re lucky,” he muttered, staring at his feet.

Winnie peered over at Riven in confusion. He wasn’t normally this pessimistic - what was going on? She couldn’t even make a guess from looking at his face, as it was obscured by his helmet.

“Are you upset? Why are you acting different from usual? Is there something I can do to help?”

Riven glanced up, and Winnie could almost imagine him, paled slightly, anxiety written all over his face. “I’m just worried. This could go wrong in so many different ways. I don’t want to get caught.”

She nodded solemnly. “I understand. But we can’t worry about things out of our control.” She reached out, squeezing his hand.

Riven squeezed back. “Well, Mirialans believe that everything happens to the will of the force, so I guess I have to believe we’re doing the right thing, and hope the  _ Ka’ra  _ are looking out for us. You do know what the force is, right?”

“Yes! I met a force user - she was friends with my Mum. She would visit sometimes, but very rarely. She was nice - she helped me learn how to use my  _ beskads _ !”

“That’s awesome! Was she a _jetii_?”

“It’s complicated.”

She let go of his hand, and they continued down the street in silence. Riven broke the quiet between them suddenly, startling Winnie.

“What are you going to do after this is all over? On a dream day?”

She paused, considering this. “Well, I went walking with  _ Buir  _ in the mountains on Concordia once. It was probably the only time I’ve ever had a holiday of sorts. We didn’t camp, but we stayed up and looked at the stars. We went so high up and it was beautiful. She taught me how to jetpack through trees, too. I’d like to go there with her again, but camp and stay there a few days.” Winnie glanced at Riven, before adding tentatively, “And, maybe you could come to? I want to show you the cave I found.”

His voice rang bright and sunny through the speakers in her helmet. “I’d love to!”

“So, what would you do?”

He sighed. “I’d like to see my family, but that isn’t going to happen. Apart from that? I want to swim in a lake. Maybe on Naboo or Alderaan, they’re pretty. I’d see how deep I could go, see if I could touch the bottom. And then lie on the outside of the lake in the sun. Course, I’d need a friend to do that with, otherwise it would be boring.”

Winnie smiled. “Well, I can swim!”

Riven laughed. “We’ll swim and sunbathe and then go hiking on Concordia!”

Winnie nudged him with a shoulder, peals of laughter coming from her. “Sounds like a plan,  _ ner vod _ !”

* * *

  
  


As they approached the warehouse (Riven was far too good at hacking and finding out where things were. Winnie was a tiny bit scared), Winnie started to understand why Riven had been so apprehensive. As many times as they had fought, the spark of nerves you got before a fight still seemed far too overwhelming. They stopped for a second, breathing deeply, before running forward and joining Riven, who was peering inside.

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it? Apart from you didn’t try to kill me this time.”

Winnie smirked, flipping down their rangefinder. “There’s still time. Now, are we gonna scale this thing? Or just waltz right in?”

“I highly doubt you can waltz!”

“Actually, I can! My Mum thought it was important to know, and it reminded her of her sister and when-” they blanched under their helmet “-don’t worry. Can we use the crate technique like last time?”

“No. There isn’t anything - this is a lot smaller. Our best bet is to run in and hope we can hide somewhere before we get caught. You still have the charges, right?”

Winnie nodded curtly. “Yes. This is probably the worst plan we’ve had.”

“I agree. But you have some paint, so at least we can mark this disaster as ours.”

“That we can. You ready?”

“No, but let’s go!”

Riven signalled it was clear, and they ran in, ducking behind a pile of crates. Winnie glanced around, before starting to pull open one.

“Winnie, and I ask this with much kindness, what the actual hell are you doing?”

They looked up at him. “The label implied this was something they were smuggling, probably stolen from something. I want to know what they are smuggling - it may give us an idea of who’s here. Also, we could always take what’s in there.”

He glanced around nervously, before nodding. “Do it. But be quick.”

Winnie unsheathed their vibroblade, plying at the edges of the container. They quickly became loose, and they tugged open the top, gasping at the contents inside.

“Jetpacks!”

They grabbed one, before pulling off their cloak, using the magnetic seal to attach it to their backplate. Winnie laughed in sheer delight. “Oh, I’ve missed this - but this isn’t the greatest sign, really.”

Riven shook his head, taking one for himself. “No. But, we have jetpacks now, which will help. It would be easier to leave through the roof than those doors, once we’ve finished here. Whilst one of us finishes charging up the other could dislodge the skylight there.”

Winnie peered over the top of where they were hiding. The room was sparse, the odd crate full of goods scattered throughout. There were two main support beams in the centre, and people were tied around them. Apart from that, it was pretty empty. Winnie could count four people moving around, and that was it.

They ducked down, turning to Riven. “There only seems to be four people here - I knew this wasn’t a big branch, but this seems very small. Could we just storm them?”

He considered this for a moment, looking for himself at the room. “Probably. But I don’t think we should risk it. If I run to those crates over there, we can try and pick them off. If we’re in different locations, that should slow them down. After, I guess we can storm them.”

“I guess that may be safer.”

“I’m always safe! You’re the one with the reckless plans.”

“ _ Aruetii _ . Now, get in position, Ara’syna!”

Riven threw them a jaunty salute, checking one last time before scarpering across to his point.

“I’m getting the Rodian. You get anyone else.”

Winnie took aim. “Got it. I’ll take that man with the weird hair.”

He laughed through the comms. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Their blasters fired in sync, Riven striking the Rodian mid-stride, toppling them. Winnie wasn’t as lucky, missing and hitting the man’s arm. A second shot, and he fell to the floor.

By this point, the other two were aware of what was happening. Winnie holstered their blaster, unsheathing their  _ beskads  _ and running out into the fray. A woman fired a bolt towards them, and they dodged, stumbling and falling. They rolled out of it, just in time to feel a hit on their pauldron. There would certainly be a bruise there tonight. Winnie jumped up, running forward, before slicing her throat. She fell to the floor with a thump.

They turned around, just as Riven picked off the final person. The Bith collapsed, and he ran over to join them.

“Well, that worked!”

Winnie nodded. “You get that column, I’ll get the other.”

They ran over to one of the columns, pulling off their helmet. Their braids stayed wrapped around their head for once, and for that they were grateful. They didn’t need them getting in the way.

“I’m going to get you out of here. You need to run, and get somewhere safe if you can. If you need money, I can give you a couple of credits, but I don’t have much either. But you need to get out of this building, mostly because we’re going to blow it up.”

Winnie could see people’s eyes widening in shock, but focused on cutting through the ties and unlocking binders. They couldn’t blame them. Blowing up a building was dangerous, and wasn’t exactly quiet. It was going to draw attention.

Which was exactly why they were doing it.

When the last person was untied, they gave out all the spare credits the two of them had collected. Winnie was thanked far too many times, and they thought they’d explode from awkwardness. They smiled stiffly, herding the people away as quickly as possible.

The last person left, and Winnie walked over to join Riven. He continued talking to the last person, before turning and smiling at them.

“That was relatively painless.”

“Well, none of us are dead. Or injured, either.”

“Exactly!” He pulled out a detonator, tossing it into the air before catching it. “Now, should we blow this place?”

“ _ Tenhaat’la, di’kut _ !”

* * *

  
  


Winnie ran around quickly, methodily placing charges on the support columns, whilst Riven worked on the walls. She placed the final one, before calling to Riven.

“Where should I place the sigil? Where would it be obvious?”

He glanced around the room. “Maybe paint it on the floor? If you did it big enough, it would be pretty obvious. Outside the building would work, too.”

“I’ll do both,” she decided, picking up her helmet and running outside. They’d bought a can of spray paint on the way here, going for a garish pink. Winnie disliked spray paints, and wasn’t very good with them, but it would have to do. All it needed was to be obvious, and grab attention.

She started painting the Nite Owl, using rough broad strokes to make it quicker. They’d gone through a lot of ideas before deciding on this one. Riven had wanted to do the Death Watch sigil - after all, it would grab attention to see the sign of an old, non-existent group who was famous for exploding things. But she’d decided that would be too uncouth, and suggested the Nite Owl. Riven had agreed with that, on behalf of the fact that Bo-Katan would surely wonder who was acting seemingly in her name. But Winnie thought it was good for other reasons - after all, it would be obvious to her who it was, considering she was probably one of the few surviving members of Clan Kryze, if not the only one. Hopefully, even if they didn’t manage to meet again today, at least she’d realise Winnie was still alive.

Finishing with that, she ran back inside, starting to paint the floor of the warehouse. Riven came over to them, shoving the activation trigger in his belt.

“I’m done. I’ll go dislodge the skylight, whilst you finish up here.”

Winnie nodded, continuing to concentrate on the sigil. She heard the telltale sound of a jetpack starting up, and looked up to see Riven soaring up, pulling out a blade and dislodging the glass. He’d left his helmet on the floor, she noted with a laugh. Trust Riven to scatter his armour everywhere.

Just as she finished the final few sprays, he yelled out. “It’s going to fall! Watch your head!”

Winnie moved out the way quickly, watching as the glass fell and smashed on the floor, glittering like diamonds. The sunbeams touching them made tiny rainbows dance around the empty space. It was almost beautiful, she decided.

Riven whooped, flying around for joy. He brushed along the ceiling, spinning and twisting, laughing loudly.

“I haven’t flown with a jetpack for years!”

“I’m glad you're having fun,  _ ner vod _ , but we are on a time limit. Come grab your helmet and let’s go home.”

“Winnie Kryze? Being the rational one? What’s happening to the galaxy?”

She stuck a finger up at him, and he laughed, swooping along towards his helmet. Winnie turned away, fiddling with a gauntlet, making sure the jetpack had connected correctly. Suddenly, the quiet roar of Riven’s jetpack vanished.

“Oh,  _ haran _ !”

She spun around, freezing as Riven, halfway to the ground, plummeted like a stone.

* * *

  
  


Riven’s ears buzzed, and spots danced in front of his eyes. He fought to breathe, willing himself to stay conscious.  _ Haar’chak _ . Why had his jetpack decided to fail him then, of all times?

Running footsteps came towards him, and he tried to turn his head. His vision swam, and nausea filled him. Suddenly, Winnie was there, pulling off their helmet. He tried to open his mouth, to assure them he was okay, but nothing came out. He felt their hands, touching his neck, feeling for a pulse. They gasped in relief when they found one. Winnie carefully touched his face, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak again, and this time words came out. “Hey Winnie.”

Winnie smiled at him, tears forming in the corners of their eyes. “Oh, you bastard, I thought you were a goner! Don’t scare me like that again!”

“I’ll try not to,” Riven croaked, offering a weak smile in return.

“You better!” they replied. “Okay, I’m going to ease you up.”

Winnie tucked an arm behind his head and back, and slowly pulled him upright. Sparks danced in front of his eyes, and Riven was sure he was going to throw up.

They supported him once he was upright, careful not to joggle him too much. “Alright, I’m either going to have to carry you or help you walk. Your choice.”

“I-” The world seemed to spin, and he could feel darkness drowning his vision. He fought desperately to stay conscious, to stay awake. He could faintly hear Winnie talking to him, almost yelling, and he tried to listen to them. But they were quiet, too quiet, over the buzzing in his ears.

"Keep talking to me. Come on, Riven, you have to stay awake!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i only said it was a LITTLE bit happier
> 
> (when riven says hey winnie at the end, just imagine it like how catra says it after being healed by adora in season five)
> 
> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS  
> jetii - jedi  
> aruetii - traitor/foreigner/outsider (in this case, traitor)  
> tenhaat’la, di’kut - obviously, idiot (tenhaat'la technically means obvious, but i'm taking liberties with mando'a here. fight me)


	10. As hard a fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie rushes to help Riven, and makes a risky trade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello pirates, thieves and other petty criminals!
> 
> that was kinda a mean note to end on last time, i admit. but we have the answer as to what happened here
> 
> this chapter title is another reference to icarus. i'm a giant greek mythology nerd, and like the parallel. although, at least riven wasn't full of hubris
> 
> we get some bo content in this, which is exciting!
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

“Keep talking to me. Come on, Riven, you have to stay awake!”

Winnie felt like all the wind had been knocked out their chest as Riven’s eyes fluttered closed. They gripped him tightly, willing him to wake up.

“No, no, this can’t be happening. Come on Riven, wake up, please!”

Hot tears poured down their cheeks, and they clasped Riven to them tightly. He wasn’t dead, thank the stars, but now Winnie was trapped in an impossible situation. They knew, logically, that there wasn’t much they could do to help. They didn’t have much of anything on the ship, and he fell a long way. He needed help.

But it wasn’t like they could just walk into a medcentre. They could barely buy food on good days, and they’d donated as much money as they could to those people. And they were Mandalorians. That was a risky person to be now.

But Winnie couldn’t do nothing. But how were they to make an impossible choice?

“Come on, Riven, please wake up. Please.”

He continued to stay unconscious, and Winnie felt panic build. This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Why did it have to be them? Why were they the one cursed? And why did that have to hurt their friend?

Winnie screamed, staring up at the sky through the gap in the ceiling. “If there is any good left in this fucking galaxy, why did you let this fucking happen? I can’t lose anyone else!”

Sobs wracked their body, but they ignored them, shoving their helmet on and clipping Riven’s to their belt. At the very least, they needed to get out of here, and blow this place. Winnie grabbed the trigger from Riven’s belt, blinking tears out of their eyes. 

They pulled him into their arms, pausing to brush the hair out of his eyes, before standing up. They braced themself slightly, adjusting their arm so it was tucked more under his legs. Riven was taller, and heavier than them, which didn’t make carrying him the easiest.

Activating their jetpack, Winnie shot up through the broken skylight, pushing their jetpack to go as fast as it could. They soared out of the way, hovering around as they tried to orient themself. There was the medical centre, about three streets down. They flew towards it, forcing themself to stay upright as they flew.

As they headed towards the medcentre, Winnie pressed the trigger, blowing the warehouse. For once, they didn’t stop and admire the explosion, watch how the flames curled into the sky. They barely listened for the sound, just urged their jetpack to go faster.

* * *

  
  


Winnie ran into the medcentre, tears obscured by her helmet. This was stupid. This was so stupid. How she was going to get through this was a mystery.

She got to the desk, stumbling as her arms ached from carrying Riven. The woman looked her up and down, before reaching for a commlink.

“No! Don’t! Please, help my friend. I just need you to tell me what’s wrong. Fuck it, just give me the supplies I need and I’ll work it out. Just help him.”

The woman pointed at her helmet. “I’m sorry, you’re Mandalorian. We can’t help you. I need to report this-”

Winnie yelled in frustration, pulling her helmet off, braids swinging, and threw the helmet on the floor. It rang out loudly, and the woman stared at her with shocked eyes. Winnie felt her head spin, and she went pale, swaying on her feet. Tears blurred her vision, and she glared. “Please. Just help him. I can pay you - I have money! Take a photo of me! Take my name! Take any identification that you want! I don’t care!” Her voice stuttered, and she swallowed hard. “Just help him, tell me what’s wrong with him, give me the supplies. You don’t have to do anything apart from tell me what’s wrong and what to do. But let us go before handing anything over, or alerting anyone. I can’t lose anyone else!”

The woman opened her mouth, then closed it. She ran her hands through her hair, thinking, before looking back up at Winnie. She sighed. “Yes. Fine. Someone can sort your friend while I sort out information to hand over. I hope you appreciate me sticking my neck out for you.”

Winnie almost sobbed with relief. “No. Look, I can give you all my credits. I just- thank you. I’m forever indebted to you.”

She raised her eyebrows, before comming someone to come and get Riven. Winnie looked down at him, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Stay alive for me, idiot,” she whispered.

Tears refilled her eyes (there seemed to be an endless stream today) as he was taken away. Winnie knew it was for the best, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d sell them out, and she'd never see Riven again. But she pushed that down, and followed the woman through.

Winnie didn’t realise there were so many identifiers to herself. She winced as she said she was Bro’wyn Kryze, as photos were taken of her face, as her fingerprints were taken. This was the one thing she wasn’t meant to do, the one thing she swore she’d never do. Winnie wasn’t allowed to exist, wasn’t meant to be known apart from needed people (although, a tiny voice in her head added, you need to tell Riven). It was the rules, and it had always been like this. She was a leverage, an anomaly in the equation. And now here she was, giving over everything about herself. Clarifying her existence. All for her friend.

But Winnie went through with it. She would do it again. 

* * *

  
  


Afterwards, Winnie was led into a small, stuffy room, where Riven lay on a bed, chest rising and falling softly. They resisted the urge to run over, instead adjusting his helmet on their belt. They’d put theirs back on again, giving them the chance to breathe again, regaining their sense of safety.

“He’ll be fine. We gave him sleeping pills, so he’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours. He’s concussed, and heavily bruised, but he’ll be fine in a couple of days - but stay with him for a day, just in case. Here are the-”

Winnie listened intently as they rattled off what they should do, and what supplies they were being given. It was overwhelming. They felt like their brain was racing at a million miles an hour, frantically trying to keep up with all the words fired at them.

When everything had finally been sorted, Winnie handed over the money. All the money. Everything they had.

“Thank you.”

The woman turned to her. “You have half an hour to get out of here. Go.”

Winnie walked over to the bed, tucking their arms under his legs and shoulders and scooping him up. They nodded to the woman, to the twi’lek who’d been checking Riven, before walking out, activating their jetpack.

As they flew towards the ship, they whispered to him. “It’s going to be okay.”

* * *

  
  


Winnie sat on the floor of the shower, sobbing. The water hit her back, mingling with her tears, her hair a curtain surrounding her. This was all her fault.

If she hadn't insisted on this, Riven never would have got hurt. If she wasn’t so focused on getting her mother back, this all wouldn’t have happened. Now they had no money, and Riven was sleeping off drugs in his cabin. And now-

Now people had solid evidence of her existence.

There had been photos and a name circling for years. But she’d voluntarily given up information, voluntary given ways of identifying herself. It broke the one rule Winnie had always had to obey.

It was intrinsic for her to shield herself from everyone. To be Winnie was to be a burden, and she didn’t want that.

She really needed to tell Riven who she was. She had known him for over a month. He’d proven he was trustworthy - hell, she’d never been any more than a couple of miles away from him, and that was only for short whiles. He was safe.

Winnie groaned, smacking herself on the forehead.  _ Haar’chak _ , Kryze. You need to get over yourself - you’re going to have cried enough to reintroduce oceans to Mandalore at this rate. 

She pushed herself to her feet, punching the wall before turning off the water. Come on. You have things to do.

* * *

  
  


Riven stirred, groaning slightly. Winnie leaned forward, resting their chin on their elbows. He tipped his head towards them, opening his eyes.

“Hi, Winnie.”

“Oh, you fucking  _ shabuir _ !”

Winnie threw themself forward, hugging him tightly. Riven made a pained sound, and they pulled back, glancing at him in concern.

“Sorry, but I’ve been so worried,  _ di’kut _ ! You are trying to get yourself killed, you fucking dumbass. I will fucking murder you if you pull  _ osik  _ like that again.”

He chuckled lightly. “Noted. What happened after I, you know, crashed to the floor?”

Winnie ran through the events. They’d blown up the warehouse, given up all their money and their identity for the bare minimum of help, and cried for an hour in the shower. Maybe they should rephrase that.

“Not much. I blew up the warehouse, and I, uh, went-to-a-medcentre-to-get-supplies-and-find-out-what-was-wrong-with-you.” The last part tumbled out in a rush, and they cringed, flushing.

“You what?!”

Winnie looked at him, before staring at their hands, pulling at them in their lap. “I went into a medcentre. I needed to know what was wrong with you, okay? I didn’t want you to die.”

Riven reached over, squeezing their hand gently. “I know. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well, I went there and begged for service. They agreed to tell me what’s wrong with you, and give me the supplies and tell me how to help you. In exchange I gave away all our money. I also let them have my full name and photo and fingerprints and the works.”

“You did all that for me?”

“Of course I did, dummy. You’re my best friend. And I don’t- I can’t lose anyone else!”

Riven smiled sweetly, before Winnie passed them a drink. “Drink something. Then you need to sleep, and rest. You’re under my supervision for the next day, and I won’t let you do anything stupid.”

He nodded, propping himself up, before taking a sip from the glass. “Okay. But one question.”

“Ask away.”

“Money we can get - and no, stealing is a last resort, before you suggest that. But now the Empire knows your name, and what you look like. How are you going to deal with that?”

Winnie sighed. “I don’t know. I wear my helmet everywhere anyway, so that’s sorted for my face. I just need to be careful. I’m no one important or fancy.”

Riven smiled. “That makes it easier, then.”

Winnie nodded. “Yes. Now rest, or else!”

He laughed, sliding down back under his covers. Winnie watched him fall asleep, internally kicking themself. This could have been your chance. You know how much danger you’re in now, because of your stupid parentage. Riven needs to know, and you need to tell them.

But I’ll tell him another day, they thought to themself. No use stressing him out over nothing. You don’t want that with a concussion.

They sighed, pushing themself to their feet to go and grab their sketchbook. Winnie reached over, brushing a curl out of his eyes.

“You really scared me, idiot. The thought of losing you terrifies me. I will keep you safe. I promise.”

* * *

  
  


“Bo, you’re going to want to see this.”

Bo-Katan looked up from the console, where she’d been playing through scenarios with the map. She turned to Fenn, who was reading over Koska’s shoulder. She walked over, frowning slightly.

“What’s happened?”

Koska spun around in her chair. “When I tapped into the Imperial network, there was lots of chatter about an explosion on Axxila. I checked it out, for obvious reasons, and it was Mandalorians. Apparently one of them made an impact, considering this.” She shoved a datapad in Bo’s face, and Bo took it.

It was a notice, released to the public from some sector in the Empire - Bo didn’t care to read the details. No, she was more distracted by the photo.

The photo was of Winnie, scowling slightly, as they faced the camera. Her hair was sticking up everywhere, and they seemed stressed, if not outright worried. Bo noted that she had a scar slashed across their face, and she shuddered to think where that was from. The last time they’d been together, Winnie certainly hadn’t had that.

Bo felt like all the air had been knocked out her lungs, as she scanned the article. They had their full name - Bro’wyn Kryze - and had a high bounty on their head. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world - she didn’t want to think about how high hers was - but it was worrying. Winnie had always been a rumour, but this seemed pretty factual - and there was an up to date photo, instead of the one Bo had carelessly taken on their fifteenth birthday.

She squeezed the datapad tightly in her hands, before a thought struck her and she scrolled up to the top of the page, looking at the photo again.This wasn’t a photo you’d expect, of a badly taken photo from a distance. No, this was taken with Winnie knowing. It looked like the inside of a building, in a designated room, almost. Bo frowned. But why would she choose to have a photo taken? They knew that their identity was not to be thrown around at will, and never to be given to the Empire.

And yet this seemed to be taken willingly.

Bo looked up, and her voice shook slightly as she spoke. “We need to leave for Axxila.”

Fenn looked at her sadly, reaching out and squeezing her arm. “We can’t. They’ve blockaded the planet. Besides, Winnie will be long gone, as clearly they’ve not been caught.”

Bo squeezed her hands into fists, blunt nails digging into her palms. “What now, then?”

“We listen and wait. If we hear of any activity or mention of her name, we leave, if it’s not too far away. We keep doing what we’ve been doing - Winnie’s smart. They’ll be hunting for us, too.”

Bo nodded. “Fine. Let's plan our next move.” She turned away quickly, heading back towards the holotable.

Fenn grabbed her hand, and she turned to face him. “What?” she asked roughly, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Something’s bothering you.”

She laughed bitterly. “Aside from the obvious? This wasn’t an accident. Winnie chose to do this.”

“What?”

“Look at the photo. That’s not an accidental photo. They  _ chose  _ to have that taken. Who knows what else they have on her.”

Koska jumped in. “Why?”

Bo shrugged. “I don’t know. They know that she shouldn’t give away information to the Empire. It just makes me wonder - what the fuck happened? Why would they do that?”

Bo pivoted around to face the others. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s not as if she switched sides. No, this was voluntary, or they’d already be caught. It just makes me think - what happened? What changed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the stakes have been raised!
> 
> fun fact! when winnie says "thank you. i’m forever indebted to you" that is an anglicisation of a mando'a phrase meaning thank you - "vor entye" - which means the same!
> 
> if you've been wondering what bo and co have been doing, imagine them raiding ships like in the mandalorian
> 
> i know i've been mean to winnie. that poor child is pretty traumatised. they do get some nicer treatment upcoming. i promise
> 
> thank you for all your lovely comments! and here's a reminder that you are so, so loved

**Author's Note:**

> if you wonder why winnie rubs their hair on her hands, or does other repetitive actions, it’s because she’s autistic. i just think it would be great to be mandalorian and autistic, okay!
> 
> and if you wonder what they look like, i drew a picture on my tumblr! - https://strawberriesinmoominvalley.tumblr.com/post/639852783248572416/i-finally-drew-up-what-winnie-looks-like-theres
> 
> MANDO’A  
> buir - parent  
> beskads - a sword, made of beskar  
> haar’chak - damn it  
> tion’cuy - who’s that (i know, she’s stupid)  
> osik - shit  
> besom - ill-mannered lout/unhygienic person/someone with no manners  
> aruetii - traitor/foreigner/outsider  
> beskar’gam- armour  
> cyar’ika - sweetheart/darling  
> di’kut- idiot


End file.
